


And They Shall Reap the Whirlwind

by B_Radley



Series: The Minstrel Boy [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Canon Compliant, Growth, Love, Multi, Teacher-Student Relationship, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-31
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-12 05:43:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 52,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7922737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the earliest days of the Clone Wars, through the eyes of lesser known Jedi, Padawans and clones. A search for answers to a growing conspiracy, as well as learning to fight a new kind of war. All while the Jedi are reeling from the growing darkness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Stolen Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Alpha-17 is a little different from the character in the old expanded universe. Thank you for reading, as always.

**Present Day (Empire Day 5 - 60 days.)**  
**Year 21 after the Great Resynchronization, Old Style**

An insistent breeze slowly brings a huntress to consciousness. The breeze wafts through the hair of her hunter, resting against her lips. She looks up and sees the gap at the top of the tent, with its gently winking tapestry of black night and starlight.

Ahsoka Tano burrows closer to the warmth of Bryne Covenant as the cold desert night makes its presence felt. She smiles as she thinks of the dance that sleep fosters for them in the fickle desert temperatures. In the early night, when the roasting temperatures of the day are still present, she fights to push him away, as he fights to come closer to her cooler body temperature. The jockeying for position usually initiates a dance of a different sort, as sleep generally doesn't come. An age-old dance that usually raises their temperatures anyway.

As the temperature cools to its near-freezing nadir, she burrows closer to his warmth. They sleep until she happens to place her cold hands or feet in areas that generally are very warm, but also very sensitive.

Sometimes the dance begins anew, as they grasp these stolen moments in their lives.

Since they had discovered that they were each alive, about four months ago, after four and a half years thinking the other was dead - dead in the cauldron of the Empire's massacre of the Jedi, their times together could be counted on the fingers of one of their clasped hands.

They had spent a month on Shili, her homeworld and a shared heritage for both, about two months after their meeting on Stewjon. A month to talk, to reconnect, to remember, to re-learn old skills, and to bask in each other's light.

There was a lot of basking going on.

A month that they also used to try to heal Covenant's lightsabered hand once and for all, as well as his ruptured, intermittent Force-sense.

They succeeded in one, at least. She is comforted by the fact that tonight she can sense him, as a strong purple, gold and green light in her mind.

_For now_. It had not been so when they parted on Shili.

Since that idyllic month, their lives had only allowed them to meet three times.

This was the third.

Her life as a operative in an embryonic movement to overthrow the Empire's oppression; as the point of contact for cells spread across the Outer Rim and his life doing the same thing in the Core, with his Force-given ability to blend in and his cover as a Ranger in Corellia's security service had not exactly fostered their ability to meet.

They made the most of what they had. Their shared times, coupled with the fact that they had made a pact not to be possessive and exclusive in this _whatever_ it was; to just live their lives as they came, had kept them sane.

_Well, at least some semblance of 'sane.'_

They had made contact several weeks ago, when he had remembered that her name-day - her twenty-third - was approaching. A part of her was touched that he had remembered; she had nearly forgotten, herself.

The other part was glad for any excuse for a meet.

This was how they had come to be lying in a tent near a settlement on Jakku, jockeying for warmth and cool with each other. Ostensibly for her to meet with a religious community that had information on possible Jedi sightings.

Celebrating her life several weeks after the fact. Celebrating with spiced _Akar_ jerky that he had made and old Republic ration bars and paste, as well as a bottle of aged Corellian whisky. The latter was used sparingly in the heat of the day.

Feasting on each other, as well. The two of them gently rocking to a finish under the stars, as they looked into each other's eyes.

She smiles ruefully, as she thinks that their mingled cries were probably fairly entertaining for the scavengers that inhabited this little settlement.

Her faithful droid Arseven, nesting in the socket of her fighter, kept a close eye on the denizens to make sure that both her and Covenant's ships left here with the same pieces that they came with.

All the while doing the astromech equivalent of holding his utility arms over his auditory receptors at the noises coming from below the fighters and the tent that Covenant had rented from a local scavenger-lord.

Arseven's opinion of Covenant had only marginally improved since he had first met the Corellian on Nal Hutta. At least there were no more displays of the shock prod in his presence.

_Well, he's more useful than that silly Bonteri meatbag that you used to look at with dewy eyes back in the War, Snips._

High praise, indeed.

_Or that skinny Mirialan Padawan that nearly was the death of you._

_Okay, little guy. You can stop with the recitation of my shitty relationship choices. You can be switched off._

She grins at the memory of the conversation on the long hyperspace trip here with her overprotective astromech. Her friend.

Her grin fades as she hears a noise from her side. A spoken word. A word that meant so much to both of them. A word so loaded with pain and joy.

_Master_.

She closes her eyes as she thinks of who he is referring to. Shaak Ti, Jedi Master and Elder of the Hunt of their shared home. A woman who did more to shape the man lying next to her, as well as teaching her many things about her culture and heritage.

A woman whose death Covenant had witnessed and was unable to prevent. A death that was most probably the catalyst of his first loss of connection with the Force, along with the trauma of his injuries and the thousands of deaths felt in the Force as the Jedi Order ended.

Ahsoka remembers the vow that Covenant had made on the stoop of a building on Alderaan, just after his Force-sense left him. A vow to lie with her in his arms and tell her his stories.

At least the story of his first loss.

She opens her eyes, as the pain washes through the Force.

She looks down at the man once known as Taliesin Croft in their shared past. His forehead is furrowed; a sure sign that a dream is building in his mind.

She doesn't worry about the fact that he didn't tell the story during their sojourn on Shili. She knows that he keeps his vows; that he will tell her in his own time.

Just as she will tell him her stories when she feels that she can.

As she looks back, she realizes that the month on Shili might not have been the right time. The joy and light that they had felt simply _being_. Talking, laughing, hunting - reconnecting with a world that meant so much to both of them, even though their time on the world was so limited.

Of course the fact that they might have not had enough time for those stories. Seeing how one or the other of them would nudge the other awake for a little basking.

Two or three times a night. Every night. Not to mention the times during the day that one or both of them would get that light in their eye.

_Glad that we were able to keep the Akul at bay._

Of course it was mostly him doing the nudging. _Yeah right, Runt, you did your fair share._

A propensity that had led them to make a friendly wager that neither of them could abstain for a month.

A month during which she had been thrown together for an operation with Dani Faygan, Zeltron empath, Covenant's boss, and Master-level flirt.

On Zeltros.

During a fertility festival.

There was still some debate as to whether or not anyone had won the bet.

She pushes those thoughts out of her mind.

As she does, she hears the sounds increase from him. She can see his eyes moving frantically under his tightly closed lids. His head is starting to swing from side to side. His jaw clenches tightly.

She can feel the pain and anger - the anguish washing over him and flowing to her. Tears spring to her eyes as she watches him.

She turns to her side and draws him closer to her. Her hands stroke his back and its tightly bunched muscles. She tries to rub away the knots forming in his shoulders.

She pulls one hand from his back and caresses his jaw. He relaxes a tiny bit at her touch.

She can feel the wetness on her shoulder from the tears rolling from under his eyelids.

Ahsoka thinks back to her lessons in the Force. A half-remembered talk from Master Plo on reaching into another Force-user's visions to protect them and calm them.

_This can be helpful to the person having the vision. It can help by reinforcing positive emotions or centering them in the Force. Or it can reduce the negative emotions such as anger, fear, and pain. There is risk involved. Risk to the giver and the receiver. Both can become trapped in the vision - an endless loop for one or both._

She wonders if the technique would work on dreams and nightmares. Dreams and nightmares so vivid that she can feel the pain starting to affect her.

She thinks of the months that they have known the other was alive. She thinks of how her own dreams and nightmares - nightmares of friends dying, as well as her own multiple, imagined, varied deaths after her trial have slowed in that time.

The young Togruta remembers her hunt-brother - the man lying here in the throes of memory - telling her that since they had found each other, his own dreams and nightmares about her death had stopped.

_Doesn't seem to stop the others, though._

She thinks about a hunter draining his Force-energy by sharing it with his hunt-sister when she was wracked with pain from a deep knife wound. A wound that she could not heal with standard medical treatments. A wound so painful she was unable to initiate a healing trance.

She makes a decision. There is no question of attempting this. He may be angry with her for the risk, but she doesn't have time to wake him up and ask his permission.

She centers herself. Her breathing eases.

Ahsoka gently moves her forehead closer to his. He moves slightly. She gently moves up and places her lips on his forehead, and runs her fingers through his hair. His face relaxes and lays against her breasts. She feels his breath and the vibration of the occasional noises that he makes teasing her nipples.

She closes her eyes. She reaches out to the Force and aims for his purple and green light. She feels herself flowing - flowing as if being poured into his mind. She squeezes her eyes tightly closed as the avatars of faith and justice shine bright - _oh so bright_ into her brain and her Force-sense.

Ahsoka opens her mind's eye. She can see herself floating in the bright light, as if detached. Her heart flips as familiar and new images flow to her senses. Her eyes narrow as she see a tiny green, troll-like being with a small cane looking up at Bryne/Ahsoka. A being who witnessed both of their triumphs and their deepest pains. A being standing on a rain-swept platform, looking at him with warmth and pride.

_I'm being charitable. The little troll was probably the cause of some of my deepest pain, with his inability to see through the manipulation of Palpatine._

She shakes the thought away. _He also selected me as a Padawan for the Chosen One. An experience that did more to shape me than almost any other._

The warmth morphs into intense pain and heat as the scene in his/her mind changes. Incongruously, she thinks about what she is seeing and how she is seeing it. She feels as if she is only getting snippets of the full dream or nightmare - like a reader skipping from chapter to chapter in a fascinating, but painful story.

The pain intensifies and coalesces in their mind. She hears Bryne's mind scream - his purple and green Force-sense searing her mind's eye. Her mind's voice joins his in the intense scream.

She forces herself to open her mind's eye past and through the pain. She sees an incredibly huge and heavily muscled _vod_ striking his/her face and body over and over again. The pain of the jackhammer-like blows striking her skin pushes her to the breaking point. She lets go and screams until her mind's voice feels raw.

The pain peaks. And then is gone. There is darkness. As if sitting in a holotheater, a picture, organized and vivid explodes on the screen of her mind. Her breathing slows.

She watches and feels, as his past unfolds before her.


	2. The Deepest Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look on them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death. Sun Tzu

**The Past  
** **3.5 years before Empire Day 0  
**

Taliesin Croft stares out at the electric blue chaos of hyperspace. He thinks about what the hell he is going to do while assigned to Master Yoda.

His orders were vague. He was to travel to an arranged set of coordinates, land on the planet at those coordinates, and await the Grand Master's convenience.

He smiles as he thinks of his Master, Shaak Ti's holocommed instructions to him. _Be mindful and respectful, Taliesin. Yoda knows what you can do. You don't have anything to prove to him. You will soon be taking the Trials and becoming a Knight. Being on your own is part of growing up._

_I won't let you down, Master._ He vows again, to himself. His expression brightens as he remembers a beautiful Zeltron woman leaning into the holo pickup over Ti's shoulder and blowing him a kiss. He can see his Master's eyeroll, but he also sees a different look in her eyes as she looks at Dani.

Their eyes lock on one another for an instant in the holocomm image. The look is shared in both sets of eyes - Togruta and Zeltron.

He doesn't try to figure out what the look was. He simply smiles and nods his head at his Master and the young Corellian Security Officer. Dani places her hand on Ti's shoulder in a gesture of intimacy, as they sign off.

He checks over the instruments, focusing on the navicomputer. Navigating to a set of arranged coordinates, especially to a planetary body that doesn't exist on star charts will be tricky. He has no information on the alleged planet, Kamino.

_Hope my plotting is tight. If not, I may become somebody else's navigational fix. Or at least the wreckage of this barge and chunks of frozen Corellian._

_Morbid, much, there bud?_

Croft closes his eyes and centers himself. He reaches out to the Force. He feels himself rushing through the blue fire of hyperspace, as if the T-6 doesn't exist. Nothing calls 'danger' to him.

He opens his eyes. _Good timing._ The warning light on the navicomputer signals that he will soon be at his mysterious destination.

The warning grows more insistent. He disengages the navicomputer and pulls back on the hyperspace lever.

The whirling mass converts to lines and then hyphens and then to the familiar twinkling dots. _Maybe not so familiar._ He knows that he has never been here before. Nothing is familiar.

Especially not the swirling blue, ocean-dominated planet. As the shuttle approaches the ball, he can see the angry cloud formations of raging storms pocketing the upper atmosphere.

A tone chimes on his communication console. He touches a button, allowing a voice to intrude on his examination of the planet.

"Unidentified vessel. You are entering restricted Republic space. Identify yourself or we will be forced to take action."

_Friendly. At least he didn't threaten to destroy me._

"Unidentified vessel, if you do not identify or turn back, we will be forced to fire on you. There will be no warning shots."

_There it is._

"Unknown station, this is Jedi Shuttle 239, with orders for Tipoca City."

"Copy Jedi Shuttle 239. Please transmit your clearance code and authorization. Do not deviate from your current course or...."

"I know. I'll be destroyed."

Croft inserts the metal datachip into the console. As he waits for it to upload, he analyses the voice that was speaking to him. A mixture of accents. Some Core, but mainly Mandalorian. Southern Hemisphere with those sharp vowels. Even a bit of Outer Rim drawl.

"Shuttle 239, your authorization code is accepted. Please turn to the heading being transmitted. You will land on Platform AA-46 on Tipoca City. Welcome to Kamino. A list of regulations has been transmitted to your ship. Please adhere to them to the letter. Failure to comply could result in serious injury or death."

"You guys may lose your Five Fork rating for tourists, if you keep sending me rules and regs. I may write a bad review on the Holonet," Croft says.

A new voice breaks in. One with fractured syntax with a mixture of warmth and steel. "Banned you have been already from the finest resorts in the Republic, Padawan Croft," the voice says, "at this one take care not to be banned."

Croft closes his eyes and says a quick invocation to the Huntress of his adopted world. He sighs. "My apologies for my flippancy, Master Yoda."

As the ancient being replies, Croft can detect a hint of warm humor. "No matter, young one. Laugh while you can, you must." The voice takes on a grim tone. "Not much laughter in the coming days will there be."

"Yes, Master. 239, out."

Taliesin Croft is silent as he absorbs Master Yoda's words. His eyes are troubled as he performs the landing sequence maneuvers.

As he closes on the landing platform, he marvels at the beautiful city in the middle of a vast ocean. A city gleaming in the dim light of the world.

A city pelted by an endless rain. He sees amphibian flying creatures, with tiny figures clinging to them. Figures that appear to have long, thin, graceful necks.

He concentrates on his landing as the shuttle is buffeted. The engine and crew compartment rotates for landing. He spots the designated landing platform ahead. A tiny figure stands alone on the platform, as if undisturbed by the rain and wind. Unbowed, his tiny Gimer stick held in both hands in front of him.

A tiny green being with more power and Force-knowledge in one of his tiny claws that the entire Jedi Order. Knowledge reinforced by a life lived for nearly a millennia. Knowledge passed on to generations of Padawans.

Including the current Separatist leader. Count Dooku. A Jedi Master who left the Jedi Order after a disagreement with the direction of the Order. A public disagreement with this self-same being standing on a stormswept landing platform, patiently awaiting his arrival.

XXXXX

Yoda watches the ramp extend from the shuttle. Taliesin Croft, one of his Order's promising learners, walks easily out of the ship. _Most promising if his mouth he can keep shut,_ the Grand Master thinks.

Yoda smiles. He thinks of the flower of youth in the Jedi. His smile grows somber, as he contemplates the coming inferno. The inferno of a galaxy-wide conflict, _no, call it what it is_ , a war.

The flower of youth and promise that may be expended on planets across the galaxy. He shakes the thought - the quick glimpse of the grin coming towards him stilled on one of those planets.

He has to fight to push those thoughts from his mind, as he looks up at the grin. A grin that is now bowing to him in respect.

"Change, things sometime never do, young Croft," he says, fondly, "those simple things, especially."

The grin grows. "Can't get much simpler than me, Master."

Yoda gives his trademark grunt of amusement. "Impertinent."

The ancient Master grows serious. Croft unconsciously matches his manner, as they walk into the complex out of the rain. "Much expected of you is, young Taliesin. As deeper you go into this mystery and this war, mindful you must be of the Force's will. Darkness is coming."

He can see Croft's eyes widen. "Open your mind to the light, you must. Even in these dark times."

He can see Croft's mind working as he digests what Yoda has said. "Prepare yourself, young Padawan. Much bigger your universe is about to be." Yoda smirks. "Do not stare."

XXXXX

_Holy shit_ , Croft thinks as he immediately disobeys the Master. His eyes lock on the sight before him.

Master Yoda and he have entered a cavernous assembly area. Thousands of figures assemble in stock-still formations. All dressed in identical black and white armor. _No, not quite identical_. Various groups are differentiated by multiple colors - colors throughout the spectrum.

He stops staring and begins to analyze. A smaller unit marches  close to his and the Master's position. Their armor is dappled with uniform splotches of blue. The figure at the head of the column, with his purposeful stride and harnessed sense of power, is unmistakeable as the leader of the unit.

The apprentice has a moment to examine the leader's armor. There is a definite Mandalorian feel to the armor, but a difference as well. He recalls the memory of the military history of his mother's people. He focuses on the helmet of the leader. A pair of angled, stylized 'eyes' rest above the the 'T' visor of the vision slits. Colored in the same blue of the unit's trim.

_Jaig_ _eyes_. Given to Mandalorian warriors for instances of bravery and skill in their craft.

A sharp sound brings him back to time and place. A barked command has caused the formation to snap their visors to the right as they approach the Jedi. The leader brings his right hand with the tip of his fingers to his brow.

Croft remembers his readings on military ceremony and heraldry. He brings his own right hand to his brow, straight as a knife, with the longest fingertip to his brow. He turns the hand slightly inward. He holds it as the unit passes; drops it as the last rank passes by and the heads snap back as one.

He notices Yoda looking at him appraisingly. _Do I detect a slight bit of approval?_

He thinks back to the question. The question that is in his mind, but he dares not voice.

_These can't be Mandos. There aren't that many Mando warriors left. Where did they all come from?_

The answer comes as a unit of adolescents march by. Identically dressed in tunics, vests, and trousers. Not just identically dressed. Each face is the same. Same dark hair, the same dark gold-to-brown eyes; the youthful features almost without interruption, a mirror of the one next to them.

Looking closer, Croft can detect subtle differences. Very subtle.

_Clones? The Republic is dealing with cloners?_

Yoda speaks up at his shocked expression. "Many questions, I know you have, young one. About the ethics of this. No choice we have."

He thinks of something his Master, Shaak Ti had said, when one of his transgressions came to light and he had said the same thing. _There is always a choice, Taliesin,_ as she introduced him to the joys of standing on his head for hours, while levitating several large objects at a time.

"Yes, I do, Master. Many questions," he says pointedly.

"As well you should, young Jedi." This from a soft voice from behind them. The Jedi turn.

A tall being stands there. Pale, hairless, with large eyes on a head that rests on a long neck. The being observes them serenely.

Yoda speaks up. "Introduce you to our host, I do. Prime Minister Lama Su of Kamino meet Padawan Taliesin Croft."

Croft takes a page from his young Clawmouse Clan students. He defaults to his manners. He bows to the being. The Kaminoan continues to observe him serenely.

"What questions do you have, Padawan Croft?"

He notices a glance of warning from Yoda. The Corellian in him forges ahead. "Just questions about how the Republic, an ancient democracy, is dealing with what are basically slavers."

Yoda closes his eyes. Lama Su, as always, apparently, is expressionless.

"We are not slavers. We are cloners. We create life for purpose. We market that life to our clients."

_Okay. Not going to get anywhere trying to offend someone who doesn't even see the fucking difference._

He tries anyway. _Nothing worth doing is ever easy._ He can feel Ti smiling at him encouragingly.

"To me, that is the definition of slavery. On both Corellia and Mandalore," he says. "These men seem to think. They must have independent thought and free will."

"It is our aim in our proprietary process that those independent thoughts are never bred into them. Only military tactics, and the necessary respect for the Jedi and their other superiors are part of their flash training."

"Flash training?" Croft asks.

"Yes," the Kaminoan says. "They would not be very efficient if we had to wait for them to mature as a human does. They are all products of accelerated growth."

Croft tries to grasp this. "How old are these men?"

"The fully functional units - the oldest are ten standard years old."

"What about their lifespans? Accelerated growth means accelerated aging," Croft asks.

"Do not be concerned, Padawan. They will last long enough to accomplish the task."

_Not what I was worried about, asshole._

Croft tries to still the thunderous expression that he can feel on his face. Along with his growing anger.

His anger is noticed. Yoda shoots him a warning look. "Padawan Croft. Explore the facility you may. Prime Minister Su and I have much to discuss. Watch and listen, young one."

_And keep your mouth shut,_ remains unsaid.

He nods. He stills his face into what he thinks is an obedient expression. He bows to Yoda. "As you say, Master." He nods curtly to the Kaminoan. As he starts to leave, Su says, to him. "Please feel welcome in our city, Padawan. We ask that you do not enter any areas marked as 'Restricted."

He isn't able to stop his words as he turns to leave. "What, we didn't pay enough for access?"

He notices, that for an instant, green fire flashes from Yoda's eyes. Just as quickly, his expression returns to his usual calm.

As the door closes, he hears Su say something about "the idealism of youth."

_Almost makes whatever shitstorm I will receive worth it to get the last word._

XXXXX

Croft's emotions calm slightly as he walks the hall, thinking about all of these beings - beings without hope beyond a short life and a brutal existence in a violent war.

He walks through a random door. He finds himself in a smaller room. About two dozen of the mature, unarmored clones are paired together; sparring in various hand-to-hand disciplines. He recognizes Mandalorian unarmed combat skills. He had studied some of those, himself.

As he enters the room, the activity comes to a halt as the clones look at him with intense curiosity. He stills himself under their scrutiny. He notices three clones who are observing and instructing the training.

He returns their scrutiny. The leaders are three perfectly staggered examples of size, each one progressively smaller than the other. Even the smallest is slightly larger than Croft's height. Their faces bear a more chiseled set of features than the younglings Croft has seen, but share the same basic template.

The largest looks at the other two. For some reason, he can tell that this clone, one of the largest, most heavily muscled individuals he has ever seen, is not the leader.

The two smaller clones evoke that same sense of strength and leadership that the _Jaig_ -eyed officer had in the assembly area.

He notices them nod at the larger clone's questioning look. The junior leader turns and walks slowly towards Croft. Croft can feel the eyes of the room on him.

A sneer twists the features of the trooper. "So this is one of those _jetti_ that we have heard so much about. I tell you, brothers, I am not particularly impressed. He is pretty small. Probably should throw him back."

The trooper walks up close to the Jedi. "Tell me, little man, what did your momma call you when she uncorked you?"

"She called me, 'sir."

A low murmur ripples through the room. He sees the smallest clone officer smile. The medium-sized one raises an eyebrow and looks pensive as he watches the interaction.

"What is your name, trooper?" Croft asks.

"My designation, 'sir', is Null-13. I was one of the first batch of clones. You can call me 'Thug."

"Is that the name the Kaminoans call you?"

"No. The longnecks don't like us having names. I chose it myself."

Croft's eyebrow raises at the choice. He files it for future use.

He looks up at the trooper, straight in the eye. "My name is Croft."

The trooper immediately starts to laugh. "Isn't that a Mando name for a bastard?"

Croft smirks. "No, not 'bastard.' 'Unwanted.' There is a difference."

"Not much, little _jetti_. You certainly aren't wanted here,"

_What is this 'little' shit that I keep hearing?" Thought I was of a respectable height._

He doesn't rise to the insult. He clears his face of expression, then places a slow grin on his visage.

"I find it odd," he says.

The trooper raises his eyebrow, but doesn't remove the smirk.

"I find it odd," he continues, "that you are questioning my parentage, when your father most likely jerked off into a test tube to produce you."

The room grows deathly silent. The variety of expressions of rage that flow over Null-13's face are priceless. He notices the smaller officer with a broad grin. The medium-sized officer's expression is still thoughtful.

Croft can feel the rage flowing from the huge trooper. _Okay. Much taller. Much heavier. Muscles on top of muscles. This is not the most intelligent time I have ever chosen to be a smartass._

He doesn't back down.

"I am going to pound you into the fucking deck, you little bastard. There won't be enough left of you to fill a teacup. Especially since you have taken it upon yourself to insult my brothers and I."

"Nope, nope, nope. I didn't insult your _Vod'e_." He hears an approving murmur at the use of the Mando'a word. "I only insulted the test tube that was dropped - yours. As a matter of fact, I think that is what I will call you. 'Drop"

He hears a snicker flow through the room.

His brothers' laughter only angers the Null more. He starts to take his shirt off.

_Okay. This is not going to be good for me._

He knows that he is in shape, with the lean, muscled build of a fighter. _I will look like I should be getting sand kicked in my face at a beach resort, compared to this monster._

The Null has stopped. "What? You don't have the balls to face me without your glow stick? Without your little 'mind tricks"?

Croft doesn't miss a beat. He pulls his robe off and unbuckles his lightsaber belt, with its trophy of a predator he had conquered. He sets them on a bench near the door. He starts to remove his tunic. He can see the wide eyes of the clones watching.

_Again, not the brightest lightsaber on the belt, Tal. This is going to hurt._

 

 

 


	3. Beloved Sons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Padawan learns his fate. A bet is restored.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mando'a phrases translate as 'Hello, my brother', and 'Hello, Commander', respectively. Courtesy of Wookieepedia.

Croft is down to his undertunic as the angry Null clone smirks at him. He starts to unbutton the remaining garment. _Well, let's see. Ears are probably vulnerable. Eyes, too. Just like ordinary mortals._

He adds his own grin to his face. The Null's eyes narrow. _Bet he might be a bit protective of his balls._

He suddenly sobers. _All this cataloging is good, but just remember, sport, that all those places are vulnerable on you, as well._

More so.

The grin returns and morphs into a smirk as his thoughts incongruously fly to a different place. _At least there might be a few Padawans back at the Temple who might mourn the damage to his balls._

The smirk fades as a powerful presence makes itself known in his mind. _You might want to focus, my young Padawan. Maybe work on not getting any of those parts damaged._

_Sport._

His eyes focus on the Null. He is just about to pull the undertunic off when a form steps between him and the one who wants to stomp him into the deck.

A smaller form than the Null. But slightly larger than Croft.

"Stand down, Sergeant. Stand down, now," the smaller officer says. "He is a Jedi. We are supposed to protect them, not kill them."

The sneer on the huge trooper's face grows. "You might want to get out of the way, Gregor. No 'normal' should stand in my way."

Gregor, the officer, seems to grow as his feet plant on the deck. "That's Captain Gregor to you. Do you realize that if you touch me, I will be very glad to have you put down? No one would bat an eye and every trooper would be duty bound to put the blaster bolt in your head. Or face the same penalty."

The Null's sneer shrinks, but remains. "You're pretty brave when you've got troopers behind you, Gregor. You'd probably piss your armor if you had to face me alone."

Gregor smiles. "No, I wouldn't. Because I know that I am already dead. Just waiting to stop breathing for the Republic. And our Jedi."

Croft feels his stomach constrict at the matter-of-fact words. _Not as long as I am drawing breath._

He makes his choice. He puts his hand on Gregor's shoulder. "Captain. I thank you, but this is my fight."

Gregor turns so that he can face both. "No sir. It isn't. These men were bred to protect you and obey you. Some are just more defective than others." He looks pointedly at the other officer who stands off, looking appraisingly at the little tableau, but taking no action.

In support of either side. Merely observing. Judging.

Croft begins to speak. As he does, a palpable feeling comes over the room.

"Marshal Commander on deck!"

The troopers in the room stiffen. Even the Null, he notices. Croft unconsciously feels himself brace, as well.

He turns to look at the two clones who have entered the room. He can feel the power, the authority flowing from them.

One, stands there in his blue-trimmed armor. A helmet with the stylized eyes of a predatory bird from one of Croft's worlds. Croft's eyes track to the clone's face. A pair of sharp, appraising eyes under cropped, bleached blond hair look him up and down. The officer nods with a slight smile.

Croft realizes that the officer is standing behind and to the left of another clone.

A clone whose authority cannot be debated. A clone who wears his gold-trimmed armor as if a mantle. He looks over the assembled clones and Croft with a ghost of upturned lips. He walks over to Croft. He stops, braces himself and salutes the young Jedi.

"Commander Croft, it is a pleasure to meet you, sir," he says. Croft raises his eyebrows at the title.

"I am CC-2224. Marshal Commander Cody, at your service."

Croft returns the gesture, as he did with the formation earlier. He can feel the eyes of the troopers on him. "The pleasure and honor is mine, Marshal Commander, but forgive me, I am not familiar with your title."

Cody smiles at him. "It is the highest rank that a clone can aspire to," he says. "There are only two right, now."

Cody turns to the clones. "One thing that you should all know. The Galactic Command Authority has issued an executive order. All Jedi are to be given rank in the Grand Army of the Republic. Knights and Masters will carry the rank of General. Padawan learners who are able to fight will carry the rank of Commander."

Croft's eyes fall at Cody's words. _So. This is what the Jedi have become. It is official. We are no longer peacekeepers._

Cody continues, "So it is not just our birthright to obey the Jedi. It carries the rule of law."

He turns to the Null, who has the good sense to keep his eyes locked on the far wall. "So what am I to do with you, Null-13? You're the outlier even among Nulls. The forgotten Null. The only one that Kal Skirata refused to 'adopt' as one of his sons. The longnecks," Croft smirks at this term, "are itching to try their reconditioning techniques on you."

The Null remains expressionless. "Techniques that will probably leave you a drooling mass of useless flesh."

Croft's eyes widen at this blunt recitation of the Sergeant's fate. "Commander, if I may. Null-13 has not actually broken any regulations. We were about to have a training demonstration of our skills at hand-to-hand combat. I was hoping to teach him a few things." _Like how to pound a Jedi to a bloody pulp._

Cody looks at him appraisingly. He smiles approvingly. "Very well, Commander. But, I am afraid your little exhibition may have to wait. General Yoda requires your presence at a briefing."

"I am at your service, Marshal Commander," Croft says. He raises his hand to salute the officer.

Cody shakes his head. "That is where you are mistaken, Padawan Croft." Croft notes the change in title. "You may rank as a Commander, but all clones are subject to the orders of Jedi."

He smiles. "Until you do something stupid and any officer will come down on you like a ton of bricks."

"Sir," he adds.

"Master Yoda tells me that your officers will probably be very busy with you, Padawan."

 _Little troll knows me too well._ "Point taken, Commander." He grows serious. "Could you give me a second, Commander Cody? I will be along to the briefing."

Cody looks at Croft and then at the Null, still standing there glowering at the wall. "Are you about to do something stupid?"

"Most assuredly." Cody grins and nods. "Don't take too long. Master Yoda doesn't like to be kept waiting." He salutes Croft and turns to go.

Croft returns the salute and offers his hand. They shake hands. Cody's eyes are surprised at the gesture. Cody and the other officer turn and leave.

Croft turns to the Null and the two other officers. "Sergeant Drop," he says, deliberately using the name that he has coined for the Null, "consider our little training exercise only on hold, not cancelled. If we have time, we will finish it later."

The Null's lips quirk into a full grin, for just a moment. "I look forward to it, Commander."

He doesn't salute.

Croft turns to leave. The two other officers salute. He notes the differences in enthusiasm between them.

He leaves them at attention as he gather up his robes and weapons. He walks out of the door.

_What the hell is the command to get them to relax?_

XXXXX

Cody and the unnamed officer are waiting for him in the corridor. Cody introduces the officer. "Commander Taliesin Croft, this is one of our finest officers, CT-7567, Captain Rex, of the 501st."

Rex starts to salute, but Croft takes his hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I respect anyone who bears the mark of the shriek-hawk. _Su cuy'gar, ner Vod_. A single dark eyebrow raises at the Mando'a greeting; the application of 'my brother' at the end.

" _Su cuy'gar, al'verde_ ," Rex responds.

He sees both officers nod as they turn and walk through the corridors.

They walk in silence as all three think on the new universe that has been formed. A universe formed by the plans of one man.

Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine of Naboo.

Croft is troubled as he thinks of all that power consolidated in one man's hands. Even his home planet with the title of a dictator relies on the consent of the governed. The Diktat is elected from a group of Councilors that includes two powerful corporations, but they are outvoted by Councilors elected by the people of cities both great and small.

_Where are we going? Which Corellian hell are we headed for?_

He still his thoughts as they enter a room. A room full of armored officers with their helmets off. All identical, but with individual characteristics.

He sees the true power in the room. A small being leaning on his stick, eyeing him with a mixture of warmth, amusement, and exasperation. He inclines his head slightly, in what he hopes passes for humility.

The Grand Master's smirk tells him he doesn't quite reach the mark.

A clone officer, who bears the same insignia as Cody, albeit in a different color, starts to speak.

"Gentlemen, we have a mission. A small force of Jedi have been dispatched to the planet Geonosis, in hopes of rescuing two Jedi as well as a Galactic Senator."

He continues, "I stress a small force. Geonosis is populated by billions of native warriors and is the site of Trade Federation droid factories."

A low murmur grows through the assembled Commanders. "Alright, pipe down. I will take the bulk of the GAR to Geonosis to affect support, and if need be rescue, extract, or recover all of the Jedi and the Senator."

The officers take a grim look at the choices of operations. The Marshal Commander continues. "Commander Cody will remain here and form his Corps from the units coming online, starting with his own 212th and the 501st."

The Marshal Commander looks at them sharply. "From this moment, you can consider this briefing both a war warning and a movement warning. A fleet of new Stardestroyers and Assault Ships is in orbit. You will begin embarking immediately with your troops. The embarkation should take no more than ten hours as the ships will be moving into the atmosphere and taking on troops by physical landing and by drop ship. There is a ten hour hyperspace trip from here to our objective. Use the time to assimilate all data from your datapads on the objective."

"Consider this a combat jump, as we will invest the planet as soon as we revert."

He turns to the small green being. "Master Yoda, do you have anything to add?"

"Only this, Commander. Crucial this rescue is. To the Republic and the Jedi Order, as sent the cream of the Order has been."

Yoda looks at the assembly. His expression softens "Do well, I expect you all will. Hope it is worth it, the cost is. May the Force be with us all."

The Commander nods. "Thank you, General. Save questions for our final briefings en route. Make it happen."

The assembly breaks up with a cacophony of similar voices. Cody gestures to Croft to follow him to Yoda. They wait until the room has emptied.

"Of the army, what are your impressions, young Taliesin?" Yoda opens.

Croft is aware of Rex and Cody watching him. "They will fight for us and die for us. I just wonder if we as Jedi and the Republic appreciate their willingness to sacrifice." He doesn't look at the two officers.

Yoda nods. "Agreed. Up to us, especially your generation it will be to make it known." His expression drills Croft with his intensity.

"Tell me, young Padawan. Ready are you to accept your responsibility in this?"

"I am yours to command, Master Yoda," Croft replies.

"Not an answer, Croft. Again."

"I will take responsibility for these men, in whatever the capacity you see fit, Master. To make sure that any sacrifice they make is not in vain. That they are not wasted."

"But," he says. "I will not treat them as things. Things to be sacrificed for the whim of the Kaminoans."

 _Or the Republic_ , he doesn't say aloud.

Yoda nods. "Ready, you are, for this challenge. But mindful you must be," he says, with a note of challenge, "that you may have to let your men go."

Croft keeps his face still. _Another attachment lecture,_ he thinks with a note of bitterness.

But Yoda says no more on that subject. "Fortunate, you are, that you happened on that particular group of clones."

_Here it comes._

"Important it is, that all classes of clones work together. Failed the Kaminoans have to integrate the Nulls fully. Achieve effectiveness they will in their units, but cohesiveness we need. Commander Cody?"

The clone officer speaks up. "Commander Croft, you will take command of those troops as a small task force. You will report to me, directly. Your job is to integrate the Alphas and the ARC troopers into an effective small unit."

"Most of the Alphas are formed into their own commando units. There are only a hundred of them. We would like to be able to integrate them into more units, to increase effectiveness. They are already training our ARC troopers, along with the mercenaries we have hired for normal infantry training. We need to see if we can integrate the units more effectively. Your training and skills as a Shadow will stand you in good stead for the unconventional missions for this group."

Cody smirks. "Oh, and by the way. Your secondary objective is to make something of your sparring partner, as well."

 _Marvelous_.

He feels a smirk from the Grand Master of the Jedi Order. "Inform other interested parties, I will, that the Croft Broken-Rib pool will be active."

_Great. They haven't healed fully from the last one. I believe that Ti collected on that one. Insider knowledge._

He looks at Yoda with narrowed eyes. "You knew when you sent me away from you and the Prime Minister that I would find that crew."

"Works in unimaginable and wonderful ways, the will of the Force does," he says.

_More like the will of vertically-challenged green, conjugation-challenged trolls, he thinks._

"Owww!" he yells, as a Gimer stick intersects with his shin.

"Impertinent, as always." The two officers are fighting back laughter.

As he calms, Cody hands him a datachip. "Here are your commission and your orders. You will follow the main force as soon as you assess and evaluate your command. You need to read the commission to your command. And oh, Commander...."

"Yes?"

"The command is 'at ease'. 'As you were', or simply, 'rest." Taliesin nods in understanding.

Cody and Rex salute and leave.

Croft turns to Yoda. "I am not sure if I am ready."

Yoda shakes his head. "Your Master's judgement, I trust. Ready you are, she says. Believe it, yourself, you must, if you are to succeed with this critical task."

Croft looks at his boots for one second then brings his eyes up to meet Yoda's. "Okay, Master. I do have one question."

Yoda nods.

"How did the Kaminoans know to breed obedience to the Jedi into the clones, if the Republic didn't buy them until a couple of days ago?"

_Out of the mouths of Padawans._

"Part of the mystery, this is, Taliesin. Your ears and your mind, keep open. In mind to solve this mystery, I have someone."

"May the Force be with you, young one."

Croft senses the dismissal. He bows and responds.

He turns to the future.

 


	4. Even Unto Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WE reposing special Trust and Confidence in your Loyalty, Courage and Integrity, do by these Presents Constitute and Appoint you a Commander, Grand Army of the Republic Willing and Requiring you from time to time to repair on board and to take upon you the Charge and Command of Commander in any ship or Establishment to which you may hereafter at any time be duly appointed, or the charge and Command of any other Rank to which you may be promoted or appointed, strictly Charging and Commanding all the Officers and company of the said Ship or Establishment subordinate to you to conduct themselves jointly and severally in their respective employments with all due Respect and Obedience unto you, and you likewise to observe and execute the Regulations and Orders for the Grand Army of the Republic and such Orders and Instructions as you shall from time to time receive from Headquarters or from your Superior Officers. Hereof nor you nor any of you may fail as you will answer the contrary at your Peril. And for so doing so this shall be Your Commission.

Taliesin Croft deactivates the datapad as he finishes the dry recitation of the flowery language of his commission. Captain Gregor takes it from him as he centers himself. He looks out at the assembled small group. Every Commando visor is centered on him.

This is no time for a pep talk.

"The short answer for our future is for me to evaluate and assess. Direct quote from the Marshal-Commander."

He looks at Gregor. "Captain, have the men fall out. I want them back here in ten minutes for hand-to-hand combat exercises. Squad leaders will take charge of the exercise. And," he looks at Gregor and the other officer--Alpha-17, "I expect both of you to take part."

A series of orders are given. The men break up and run from the room. Croft takes off his robe, tabard, and tunic, as well as his boots. His lightsaber belt is placed in the pile on the bench. He is clad in what passes for exercise gear among Jedi.

He senses that it is probably not appropriate for his new role as a Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic, but he doesn't have time to find proper clothing.

He senses a presence behind him. A trooper stands there in exercise gear, with another set in his hands. The trooper's exercise shirt bears a very visible red cross on the front. The trooper stands at attention, but doesn't salute. _Hands full and in exercise gear. Got it._

He nods. "Sergeant Pecker, senior medic, reporting, Commander. Thought you could use some proper exercise gear rather than those Jedi clothes, sir."

Croft smiles. "Thank you, Sergeant." He doesn't ask about the name. "How did you know the sizes?"

Pecker gives a tight smile. "A good medic looks after all of his officers and troopers. He doesn't reveal his secrets, sir."

For the first time, Croft genuinely grins. "Point taken, Sarn't." The other troops start to file in. A good five minutes ahead of schedule. Croft takes the exercise clothes and quickly strips out of his clothes, replacing them with the medic's proffered clothes. Croft nods his thanks at the fit.

As the trooper assemble, Croft turns to the medic. "How many medics do we have?"

The medic speaks without pause. "Three sir. Two full-time and one backup. Triple Threat, one of the weapons/demo guys in the HQ Element is one. Hangnail, is the other full-time medic for the unit, embedded in Epsilon Squad. Also, Captain Gregor insists on everyone being trained to the combat lifesaver level."

Croft nods and notes all of the names, as well as the dry catalog name of the squad. "I know the answer, but how is the health of the men?"

"Sick call is usually boring. More training injuries among the ARC troopers, but still very much less than a line unit or a non-clone unit. They heal very fast."

"Is there is an element who has more injuries than the others?" The medic doesn't speak.

"Speak candidly, Sergeant. You're responsible for the men's well-being."

The trooper looks as if Croft has just asked him to piss in the Chancellor's Senate pod. He finally answers. "Gamma Squad, sir. Sergeant Stark." His manner suggests something more to the answer, but Croft doesn't press.

"Thank you for your candor, Sarn't."

He turns to the men, who are pairing up. He notices that Gregor is paired with one of the troopers. Alpha pairs up with one of the squad leaders.

Null-13 is floating. Helping with placement of hands and feet. Croft notices that the Null is gruff, but professional. The gruffness is tempered with a high level of encouragement. A slap on the back here, a nod of approval, there. He encourages the troopers to be aggressive, but he stresses a high level of thought.

There is a scream of pain. The exercise stops. An ARC normal is on the ground, holding his broken arm. He notices that the man's squad leader has walked away. All three medics are assisting. He and the two captains, as well as the Null walk over to see. Alpha-17 looks down on the trooper. Gregor and Null are on the ground. Gregor is joking with the man as the medic attends. Croft walks over and kneels with the two. The Null shifts and gives him room. He can feel the eyes of the troopers on him. Especially the Null.

"Hey trooper, I'm Croft. Sorry I don't know your name."

"I'm Bozo, sir. Backup Comm/Tech. Sir, I really don't want to miss the movement."

Croft feels himself plastering a smile on his face. "I don't think that you will. I think that we can fix this up, right, Pecker?" The medic looks at him and gives a brief nod.

"Go with these guys, Bozo. Do whatever Pecker and the droids, say, you'll be good as new. A trooper that he doesn't know helps the injured clone up. He realizes that it is a different squad leader than Bozo's. Null is on the other side, ready to support the trooper.

"What is your name, Sergeant?"

"Stooge, sir. Alpha..."

"Stooge is enough. I'll learn the numbers later. Take Trooper Bozo to medbay. Make sure he is taken care of. Report back to Captain Gregor. Sergeant Drop, carry on with training." The Null doesn't acknowledge him and brushes his shoulder against the Jedi. Gregor starts after him. Croft gives a quick shake of the head, as he sees where the Null is headed.

The Null walks straight over to the injured clone's squad leader. The words that are exchanged are low, but he can tell that Stark, the squad leader is not doing well in the conversation. Croft sees Alpha-17 walk over and jerk his head at the Null. The Null's eyes narrow but he turns and walks away without a word.

Croft can see the suppressed anger throughout the Sergeant's body. Croft makes a decision.

One that is going to hurt.

"Null-13!" he says, loud enough to turn heads. The Null slowly turns, a look of contempt on his angry face.

"I think that we had a sparring session scheduled that was postponed."

He can see the shock on several faces, delight on a couple, and apprehension on at least one.

One face, he notices, just looks and analyzes.

The Null walks over. "You sure you want to do this, little Commander?"

"No time like the present." He notices that the troopers have broken up their own training and have formed a circle.

Null takes off his exercise shirt. Croft mirrors him. The size and muscle difference is very noticeable.

As he dips into a stance, Croft remembers a phrase from his commission, that he had read earlier.

_Hereof nor you nor any of you may fail as you will answer the contrary at your Peril._

_Guess I am about to find out about that 'peril' part._

XXXXX

Croft stares at the Null through one fully open eye. Sweat and blood flow into his good eye from a gash on his forehead from an attempt at a head butt to the Sergeant's nose. _Even his nose has muscles,_ Croft thinks.

The nose is bleeding though. Profusely.

So is Croft's. As well as his lip and a gash on his cheek.

_Well, at least there is no brain damage, yet._

The serene presence in his mind says. _What do you mean? He has kicked you in the groin._

_Thanks, Master. For the support._

_Anytime, my young Padawan. Don't blame me for your poor life choices._

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. His movements and his thoughts feel like he is already swimming upstream in a tank of bacta.

The trooper rushes him and tries to grapple. Croft evades the grapple by rolling over the broad back of his opponent. He punches the Null in the back of the neck. The Null answers by seizing his arms as he is coming out of the roll and flipping him towards the wall.

Several observers manage to get out of the way as he strikes the far wall. Croft fights his way back up to his knees and then his feet as he struggles for breath. He sees the Null advancing.

_Well, that's an incentive to get up._

Strangely the anger that had pervaded the Null throughout their brief association, is not present. He only sees an analysis. Analysis and observance.

_Is he testing me as much as I am testing him?_

The thought vanishes as he walks back to face the Null. They begin the dance again. Two quick punches to Drop's jaw and he draws a roundhouse kick to his own ear.

More blood. He tries a kick of his own, but his foot is nearly caught. He loses his balance evading it and springs up. Right into a left hook into his jaw.

The lights flashing before his remaining open eye refuse to dim. His head spins with the power of a galaxy. He takes a brief second to catalog his injuries. Apparently the Null had figured out the way that he was guarding them that his ribs were a vulnerable spot.

He exploited them. Several times. His recently dislocated shoulder was another spot that has nearly been twisted out of its proper place.

He feels the air displacing in front of him. Apparently, the Null is tired of dancing. As he charges, Croft sees his chance. He charges low and butts his head into the wall that is the clone's stomach. He doesn't grapple, instead moving his arms down the Sergeant's body. The clone makes his own trip to the far wall. He can hear the audible reaction from the spectators.

The clone gets up immediately and charges. He hits Croft like a charging Rancor. He grapples the Jedi's body and squeezes.

Croft manages to slam both palms into Drop's ears, causing a grunt of pain and a relaxation of the vise on his protesting ribs.

Drop responds by slamming Croft to the ground. He tries to follow, to pin the Jedi once and for all, but Croft rolls away.

Croft gets to his hands and knees. He struggles to get to his knees. He succeeds, and pauses. From the audience, he can hear a cacophony of cries of "Stay down!"

He gets up. He sways as he turns towards the trooper. He notices that the trooper is looking at him. That the Null has a towel in his hand.

Without a word, Null-13 throws the towel at the Jedi's feet. The room erupts. Croft hears none of it as the room spins.

And flips. He feels himself falling.

He is only out for a moment. He looks up and realizes that his opponent is supporting him on his knees. Gregor and the three medics are gathered around.

The room stops spinning. Null stands up with him and slowly walks him towards the door. He looks around and sees the room standing at attention.

_Winning hearts and minds by getting the shit beat out of you. Didn't read that in any of those leadership files._

XXXXX

Cody is looking down at him, as he comes out of the bacta haze. The Marshal-Commander brings his head up and allows him a drink of water.

"How is the Null?"

"Ask him yourself."

Croft looks over and catches the eye of the NCO. "Couple of firsts, there, Commander. I have never been beaten and I have never been thrown."

Croft shakes his head. "You and I know that you weren't beaten, Thug."

"Drop."

"What?" Croft asks.

"My name is Drop."

Croft sees Cody hide a smile.

"I may not have been beaten, sir, but I think that you won. Those men will follow you anywhere."

"Maybe so. But let's wait until they see me in battle," Croft says.

Drop looks at him. "Commander, I submit myself for whatever discipline you choose."

Croft is silent. "I think that the only discipline that will happen, is that you are going to be my right hand, Senior Sergeant."

Null nods. "What about the officers?"

"We'll see. But I think I need to make some changes."

"I agree wholeheartedly, sir."

"I want the officers, and squad leaders in my quarters in ten minutes. I am sending a list of names to your datapad that I want outside my quarters in fifteen."

Drop salutes. "As you say, sir." He spins on his heel with military precision and marches out.

Cody looks at him. "I see that you figured out your second objective."

Croft nods. "Yes. I think that he was posturing - trying to push his officer's buttons to try to get them to step up. That is why they haven't been able to get past his aggressiveness."

He looks away as he continues. "From what I have read about the Nulls, they were bred to be aggressive. But they were also bred to be smart, but individualistic. It's why they work well in their own little unit. I am glad that the longnecks didn't put them down. We will unfortunately need those blunt instruments."

"I think that his aggression was too much even for the _Kalbuir_. But what he and the Kaminoans didn't realize, is that some of the individualism has been knocked down."

Cody takes in Croft's words. "He is intelligent, but he realizes that in order for the mission to succeed, he has to work with and take care of his troops."

"What about the Alphas?" Cody asks.

Croft is silent. "I don't know if they will work. So far, I have only seen one that I think will. They are bred, apparently to be determined. They are loyal to the Grand Army of the Republic, and feel a part of it, much more than the Nulls of Skirata, who seem to be only loyal to themselves."

"Determined is one word for it. I believe that the Nulls call them 'Alpha Planks."

"I think that they are also very cliquish. They don't tend to look favorably on the normals, even less so than the Nulls do. Maybe it's an inferiority complex from the Nulls. I am not a mind-healer."

Cody digests what the Jedi has said. "What are you going to do?"

"Well, I am about to jump off of a bridge. I need your permission to try something; as well as a landing zone. Not for me."

Cody thinks and nods. "We'll see if you are right, Commander. I think that the jury is still out."

"Hell, Commander, the jury is still out on me."

Cody smirks. "Well, it better finish its deliberations in a hurry."

"Why?"

"Movement warning. Your timetable has been pushed up. After your little confab here, you're going to meet with your new Naval Captain. We're giving you a light frigate--a Commando Assault Corvette, to be precise."

"Okay. We'll be ready. By the way," he says looking directly at Cody, "tell Master Yoda that there was only bruising and spraining. There were no breaks."

Cody laughs as Croft rises and hobbles towards his meeting.

XXXXX

The three squad leaders, Drop, and the two officers file into Croft's quarters. They snap to attention and salute.

Croft stands and returns the salute. He doesn't allow them to rest.

"Gentlemen, I have observed and assessed. I would've liked to have had more time, but I don't. We are moving to Geonosis to support the relief column within three hours."

He can see their expressions change with various emotions.

"There are some changes that I have to make in order for this Task Force to be more effective."

"Stark. The fact that another squad leader had to see to one of your injured men, as well as the fact that you were the one who injured him tells me that you are not interested in our mission succeeding. We can't succeed without the ARC troopers."

Stark begins to speak, but Croft cuts him off. "You're fired. Demoted and transferred. The 212th has a spot for a scout. Commander Cody has approved the transfer."

Stark's anger boils over. "You can't do that, Jedi. I..."

Drop walks over in front of him and puts his nose inches from the Alpha's. "You'll do what, little Alpha?"

"Oh, some cuddles on the exercise mat and you are his lapdog, now?"

Drop whispers something that Croft chooses not to hear. Without a word, Stark turns and leaves.

"Drop has recommended that Nerf, Scout 2 in Alpha Squad replace Stark."

"Gord," Croft says to the Alpha Squad leader. "I have only seen you hanging out with and helping other Alphas. I have seen no extra training of your ARCs from you. You paired up with Captain Alpha-17 in the sparring. You're demoted. You're now Scout 2, embedded in Gamma Squad. Mope, Scout 3 in Gamma Squad will replace him."

Gord has the sense to say nothing as Drop faces him and jerks his head towards the door. He salutes Croft, spins on his heels and exits. Drop does quirk his lip up at Gord's acceptance.

"Stooge. Thank you for looking after Bozo today. Shows me something. But don't let it go to your head." Drop walks over to the Alpha. He slaps a meaty hand on the Sergeant's shoulder. To his credit, Stooge doesn't collapse under the onslaught.

"Stay here, _Vod_ ," Drop says. "You get to help us with some good news."

Alpha-17 speaks up for the first time. "Sir, I protest this. ARC troopers cannot be leaders over Alphas. There is a reason that Alphas were bred first."

Gregor breaks attention and turns to his counterpart. "Breeding doesn't matter for shit, Seventeen," he says in an angry voice. "We have all received 'breeding' and 'flash training.' Not all of us are fit to be leaders. Even Alphas."

Alpha looks to continue the argument. Croft breaks in. "Sergeant Drop, Sergeant Stooge. Could you give us the room, please? I'll bring the other two and you in after a couple of minutes."

They both salute and leave.

Alpha begins to speak. "No." Croft says simply.

"What?" Alpha says, incredulously.

"This is where I speak," Croft says simply. "You may both have valid points. I am not going to get into that. However, as you may notice, I have paid you a courtesy. I am not dressing you down in front of the men. Pay me the courtesy to come to me without troopers in the room if you have a problem with what I have done. I will allow you to speak freely, but not in front of the men. That goes also, if you have a problem with each other. Take it behind closed doors, or bring it to me. If you bring it to me, you better both be in the room. Clear?"

Gregor says, "Yes sir. Crystal."

Alpha nods. Croft's eyes flash. There is a pause. "Clear, sir," he finally says.

"Get out."

He sits down at his desk. He looks at the surface of the desk and runs his fingers through his hair.

_What the hell am I doing here? I should be back at the Temple, teaching Ahsoka and the rest of Clawmouse lightsaber forms. Not trying to lead a bunch of men who are older than me in everything but chronological age to survival. Trying to lead from a bunch of half-remembered leadership memoirs and texts._

He looks up and notices Drop standing there in front of him. "Thought I would give you a moment, Commander."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Croft says.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"You are my right hand, Drop."

"That look on your face."

"What look on my face?" Croft asks.

"The one you have now. The one that looks like you don't know what the fuck you are doing here, or what to do next, or even if what you have done is right."

Croft is silent. Drop continues. "I saw it a couple of times on your face in the training room. In front of the men. I am telling you now, that it needs to stop, at least in front of the men."

"Right kriffing, now."

"You can look like that with me, or maybe even one of those officers that you trust. You can even express doubts to me."

"But you better be on your game in front of those men. They don't need to see you doubting yourself. They need to feel that you are ready for anything."

"Otherwise, you probably need to go back to plowing through the Padawan population and waving your glow stick around at the Temple. Or whatever the hell that you jetti do."

Croft smiles and stands. "Point taken, Sergeant. Thank you."

"It's what your right hand is here for." He smirks. "Just don't expect me to do what your real right hand usually does for you."

"You had to make it weird."

"Bring'em in Sarn't. Let's give some good news. Also, as soon as you get through here, you and the squad leaders find a replacement scout for the one promoted. You also need come up with new names for the squads. Something personal, rather than those damned catalog designations. Also, make sure that any trooper that hasn't chosen a name does so. Or choose it for him. You are not just numbers to me."

"You may have some pushback from Captain Alpha, sir. He doesn't believe in names."

"Tough."

Drop looks at him with a hint of amusement. "As you say, Commander."

The trooper turns and leaves. Croft closes his eyes to steel himself. As he does he is overwhelmed by the powerful presence of a Huntress in his Force sense.

The Huntress is smiling with a carnivore's teeth. Smiling with pride.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE reposing special Trust and Confidence in your Loyalty, Courage and Integrity, do by these Presents Constitute and Appoint you a Sub Lieutenant, Royal Canadian Navy, Willing and Requiring you from time to time to repair on board and to take upon you the Charge and Command of Sub Lieutenant in any ship or Establishment to which you may hereafter at any time be duly appointed, or the charge and Command of any other Rank to which you may be promoted or appointed, strictly Charging and Commanding all the Officers and company of the said Ship or Establishment subordinate to you to conduct themselves jointly and severally in their respective employments with all due Respect and Obedience unto you, and you likewise to observe and execute the Queen's Regulations and Orders for the Royal Canadian Navy and such Orders and Instructions as you shall from time to time receive from Naval Headquarters or from your Superior Officers. Hereof nor you nor any of you may fail as you will answer the contrary at your Peril. And for so doing so this shall be Your Commission.
> 
> Officer's commission from pre-1968 Royal Canadian Navy


	5. The Flower of the Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> JOINING THE COLOURS
> 
> (West Kents, Dublin, August 1914)
> 
> There they go marching all in step so gay!  
> Smooth-cheeked and golden, food for shells and guns.  
> Blithely they go as to a wedding day,  
> The mothers' sons.
> 
>  
> 
> The drab street stares to see them row on row  
> On the high tram-tops, singing like the lark.  
> Too careless-gay for courage, singing they go  
> Into the dark.
> 
>  
> 
> With tin whistles, mouth-organs, any noise,  
> They pipe the way to glory and the grave;  
> Foolish and young, the gay and golden boys  
> Love cannot save.
> 
>  
> 
> High heart! High courage! The poor girls they kissed  
> Run with them: they shall kiss no more, alas!  
> Out of the mist they stepped—into the mist  
> Singing they pass.
> 
> Katherine Tynan (1915)

**Coruscant  
Two hours before movement to Geonosis**

Dani Faygan slowly climbs up from the depths of sleep. Probably a deeper sleep than she has enjoyed in long while. She reaches over to her right, to where her lover had slept during the night.

Slept for part of the night.

She hears the shower running; relaxes that now that she realizes she has not slept through Shaak's departure.

She would not have begrudged the departure without waking her. She can sense what the huntress is bound for. The Jedi are so few in the Temple; the bugs that are waiting for them are are apparently so many.

Shaak had told her where and why she had to leave; to rescue two of her brothers and an idealistic Senator. The reasons that she gave were part of what drew Dani to her.

Dani smiles as she thinks of the powerful woman who had touched her in many ways over the last few weeks. Her serene features that belie a passionate nature. The passion of a powerful huntress. The strength, both in her heart, and in the strong arms that held the young woman to her.

The smile grows as she thinks of the care that Shaak Ti holds for her talented, mercurial student, Taliesin Croft; the patient smile when his mouth exceeded his brain's capacity for tact; the smirk whenever Taliesin realized that he has overstepped. The look of fierce pride when he learns from that overstepping.

She had seen Ti's true feelings for her student on the streets of Coronet City, when Dani was cleaning the saber wounds to her side. She had seen Ti's eyes widen as if her mind was struck by electricity. The brief burst of uncontrolled joy and love when Taliesin had walked over to her. The strength with which Ti had held her student to her. The moment that Croft had given her to compose herself.

To the serene visage of a Jedi Master.

She had seen Croft's face as well. _Jedi do not love. They do not show attachment._

_Right._

She thinks of her own nature and her people. Their mantra - _every thing that they do is an act of love._ It has gained her people a reputation among some circles of promiscuity, of easy virtue, of a lack of seriousness; of a hedonistic, narcissistic nature.

They could not be further from the truth. _Everything we do is an act of love and of care._

Her people do mate for life, sometimes with one, sometimes with more, but the ideas of love, pleasure, and comfort are paramount in their nature. Of sharing that nature. _Widely_.

She laughs to herself. At their core, the Jedi tenets of service to the people of the Galaxy; the bonds between Master and learner; are not that far off from the idea of everything being connected to love.

Maybe a little bit less of the physical passion.

Her Corellian half finds a great deal of irony in these thoughts. Some Jedi Masters would probably blow a gasket at such thoughts.

She sobers as she thinks about her feelings for Shaak Ti. Last night, she had told the Jedi, that she was 'just providing comfort and passion--a respite.'

She isn't sure how true those words were, after reflecting on the last few weeks. _After last night._

She shakes her head at her confusion. _I really don't need to distract her with this. Live for the moment, Daaineran. Grab what you can._

She throws off the covers and starts to swing her legs to the floor. A shower sounds lovely right now. Especially if it leads to a little more comfort before she leaves.

Her thoughts are ripped by a heart-rending scream from the 'fresher. A scream that cuts through her, especially as she considers the powerful control of the only person in the 'fresher.

XXXXX

The shuttles continue to land in the Jedi Hangar. Master Mace Windu watches the flurry of activity as Masters, Knights, and Padawans prepare to find two of their own. This was the largest movement of Jedi in his memory.

His eyes close. _Testament to how far we have fallen. How thin we are spread across the galaxy._ In spite of the activity, only about one hundred Jedi were answering the call.

The rest of the Order's diminished numbers are too far away or dealing with other fires and hotspots across an already embattled galaxy.

The predators are circling the blood in the water. The new threat of the Separatists were not the only ones circling. The Hutts, the Black Suns, the Pykes. Even that rumored new shadow, Kanjiklub. All seeing the shrinking Jedi numbers and their mixed mandates. The inertia of the Senate and their inability to act.

Waiting. Watching.

He shakes his head and lifts his lips in an unfamiliar expression. Or at least rare.

A smile. _Come on Mace. I know you have a reputation to uphold as the grumpy realist on the Council, but come on._ The Jedi have always done what has been needed to uphold the peace of the galaxy.

A loud commotion near a shuttle takes the smile off of his face and replaces it with its customary resting Master face. A Chalactan Padawan holds a young Togruta by her skinny arm, a thunderous expression on both faces.

"You little brat. What have I told you about disobeying me?" the Chalactan, Elle Jaquindo says to the youngling, her dark blue eyes flashing.

Mace raises an eyebrow at that. _I know that Tano can sometimes engender strong reaction, but that is a bit much._

He walks over. "What is going on here?"

Jaquindo lets go of the Padawan. The thunderous expression on the youngling does not abate.

Neither does it abate on the ten or so younglings of various ages behind her. He notices with amusement that all of them bear lightsabers of some description. Either the constructed lightsabers of the older Initiates or training sabers of the younger ones.

"Master Windu," the Chalactan says, her face struggling to calm, "It is nothing that I can't handle."

"Really Padawan? I see you about to duel with a youngling in anger."

The Padawan starts to speak, but thinks better of it. To her credit, young Tano keeps her patented Smirk off of her face.

Jaquindo calms. "I caught these younglings trying to sneak aboard one of the shuttles. When I expressly, as their acting clan master, told them not to. This one," jerking her thumb at Ahsoka, "is the ringleader in any disobedience."

Mace turns to the ringleader. "Is this true, Initiate Tano?"

The youngling looks down. "Yes, Master. But," she looks up at the Korun, "the Jedi will need every saber that they can get. We've heard that you are going to bring Master Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker home. We can see the numbers. You need us!" The last is said with sharp emphasis.

Mace's heart falls as he thinks of the flower of the Jedi. Lying spent on a desert world. He thinks of these younglings lying there with them.

He crouches down to Tano. "I know, little one," he says in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "But we need you to protect the Temple and the younglings in the crèche, as well as your brothers and sisters who haven't mastered the saber like you have."

"But...," the young Togruta starts. She falls silent. She nods. "Yes, Master. We won't let you down."

Mace feel a bit of dust from all of the activity in his eye. "Go, Ahsoka. Take your gang back to your quarters. And bid your clan master farewell."

Ahsoka's expression darkens, but she stills it. She turns and bows to Jaquindo. "May the Force be with you, Padawan Jaquindo."

The Padawan returns the gesture with much less grace than the younglings. Clawmouse Clan leaves for their assigned place.

Mace turns to the clan master. "When we return from Geonosis, Padawan, we will have a discussion about patience with our challenging younglings."

"Master, their previous clan master was too lenient with them...."

"A good Jedi accepts responsibility for her actions. Croft might have been lenient, but he certainly got results."

He softens, as he thinks of the coming trial for her and her fellow Padawans. "Go. Find your shuttle, Elle. May the Force be with you, Padawan."

She starts to say something else, but stops herself and bows. "May the Force be with you, Master."

Mace watches her walk away.

_The flower of the Jedi. Wilting._

XXXXX

Dani bursts into the 'fresher to a sight that she is not used to seeing. Shaak Ti, powerful, compassionate Jedi Master, teacher, Elder of the Hunt on her homeworld, lying on the floor, her sharp teeth clenched in pain, her muscles locked.

The young officer crouches next to her, unsure what to do. She seizes the older woman and brings her to her chest. She opens her empathy and sends it flowing into Ti. The intense pain that she gets back nearly causes her to scream, but she bites it back. Ti fights her hands, but Dani is unyielding, as she tries to push the pain out of the huntress.

Through her clenched teeth, Ti gasps, "Injector. In belt pouch."

Dani is reluctant to let her go, but Ti insists. "Go, Dani, please."

Dani rushes back into the bedroom. She finds the injector and brings it to the Master. "Inject it into the side of my, neck. All of it. Please hurry, love."

Dani positions the injector against Ti's corded neck. She takes a deep breath and injects the full amount. The pressured air and medicine rips another stifled scream from Ti."

The young Zeltron instantly feels Ti relax in her arms. She feels...something as the Master closes her eyes and focuses.

Her breathing steadies. Dani can feel the Togruta's muscles relax. She gently rocks the older woman in her arms and tries to remember long-forgotten lullabies from her world.

After a time, she sees a smile flow to Ti's face. She opens her eyes and says, "You have a beautiful voice, love." She turns her head and captures Dani's lips with hers. "Thank you."

"Shaak. What was that? I have never heard you scream or could think that you could show so much pain."

Ti smiles grimly. "My secret and my curse as a Jedi and as a huntress."

She rests her head further against Dani's chest. Her lekku move gently. "One of the thousand worlds that I have been on with the Jedi. One of those forgotten ones. I left there with something. Something that targets me as a Togruta - especially as a Togruta huntress."

Dani is silent, letting the huntress tell the story in her own time.

The Elder takes a deep breath. "I caught some infection after a mission a couple of years ago. I thought it was just something I would deal with. Tal caught it as well, but he was ill for a brief time and it went away."

The officer touches her rear lek with her lips in encouragement. And comfort.

"Apparently we didn't catch it fast enough. It settled into my right montral. I first noticed it last year when I went home to the Hunt. I tried the Call; what you might refer to as a type of echolocation. It is what makes me what I am as a huntress. I am fairly unique in the power of my Call; a very small percentage of female Togruta who hunt have my level."

Dani smiles. She kisses Ti's cheek. A smile quirks one side of Ti's lip. It vanishes. "I used the Call and I was knocked down by intense pain in my head."

"The Force helped me recover. I went to our healers. They consulted with Togruta healers. Because of the nature of my Call; I am cursed with a more open structure in there."

She stops. "I don't want to bore you with this, or frighten you with the details. The bottom line, is as Tal says, the affliction causes me intense pain when I use the highest level of my Call."

Shaak can see her lover's eyes tearing. She kisses the tears away. "Don't cry for me, sweet Dani. Don't pity me."

Dani's eyes flash. "I would never pity you. I will hurt for you, though. You can't stop me." She says it in such a fierce tone, that Ti's heart leaps.

The Zeltron grows softer. Her eyes questioning. "Why did it seem to affect your whole body? That was more than just your head."

"It has spread to the nerves on my right side, from the montral. That is the nature of the affliction. I won't even try to call it by its Togruta name. I just call it 'my curse.'

Dani closes her eyes to not show Shaak her tears. "What will happen, Shaak?"

"I can keep it at bay, if I don't use the upper end of my Call to hunt. The injection that you gave me takes care of the pain after a while. I can also use the Force to help."

"I am not dying, Dani. But someday the pain may kill me."

"Why did you have an attack? Have you used your gift?"

"Yes. On the streets of Coronet City to try and locate Croft and the assassin when he chased after her. It doesn't affect me immediately, sometimes as much as a month later. Fortunately, it hasn't affected me at inopportune times. You are the first person to witness an attack."

"It does cause me to have muscle aches that are fairly powerful after exercise or combat. But I can push through it."

Dani smirks. "My damned stubborn huntress. Almost as stubborn as Corellian/Mandalorians."

Ti smiles a predator's smile. "It makes us exceptionally lovable, doesn't it?"

The officer rolls her eyes. "Right." She focuses on Ti. “Shaak, is there anything that can be done?"

"Yes. I can have a particular surgery," she says. Dani's eyes grow excited, until she sees the Togruta's expression.

"It would essentially gut my right montral. I wouldn't be able to use any level of the Call, as it would imbalanced. I would never be a Huntress again. I could never teach younglings the joy of the Hunt - not of the Kill, but of the Hunt."

"I am not willing to not be the same person I was."

"Could you use the Force to compensate?"

"It would not be the same. I use the Force as well as my abilities to be the Jedi I am. It would affect that, as well."

Dani nods. Her eyes look toward the floor. Ti shifts around, where she can see the girl's face and puts her fingers under Dani's chin; gently raises it up. She looks into the purple, almost black, brimming eyes. She touches her lips with her own.

After a moment, Dani pushes her away. The tears have been replaced with the fire of anger; looking direct into Ti's own violet eyes - the violet eyes of a powerful Huntress.

"Does Tal know?" the empath asks.

Shaak nearly shouts in her emphasis. "No. And he must never know."

Dani reels from the intensity, as well as the words. "Why Shaak? He deserves to know. I see how he looks at you--the love, the respect, the care. He deserves to know," she repeats.

Shaak's own eyes are welling. "Dani, if you have any regard for me, whatever feelings you have for me, I ask you--I implore you. Don't tell him."

Dani Faygan has never heard this raw emotion from the Jedi Master. Ti slows her breathing and tries to center herself. "This war that is coming. He will need all of his focus, all of his serenity, all of his power, just to come out whole - not just survive. I do not want him distracted by his attachment to me or my curse."

"Sister, I think that ship has fucking sailed," Dani explodes. "You are bonded as Master and apprentice. Don't you think he is already attached? Why can't you fucking Jedi see what everybody else in the galaxy who knows you and loves you sees right in front of their faces?"

Tears are rolling freely down her cheeks from the anger and the pain. Ti lets her cry and sob.

When she runs down, Ti touches her face. "I know Dani, but this is how it has to be. Please promise me, dear one."

Dani starts at this. "Yes, I said it. You are as dear to me as anyone could be. I know that I can't say it, as a Jedi...."

The Zeltron places her fingers over Ti's lips. "Shh, my Jedi. You don't have to."

She steels herself. "For you. I promise. I promise not to tell Croft. But the moment that this war is over and both of you are with me, we are going to have a long conversation - just the three of us. Do you understand me?"

Ti smiles at her fierceness. "Yes, my Master. I do."

Dani seizes her and hugs her, as tight as she dares. "I am not going to break, Constable. Hold me as hard as you need."

"Shaak, how long do you have to spare? I want to just sit here and hold you."

"I have a little bit, Dani. It feels good to be held by you."

She settles back against the young woman. For the moment, there are no thoughts of war, of the flower of the Jedi, or of illness.

There is merely warmth and comfort.


	6. Because We Are Going

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because we are going from our wonted places  
> To be task-ridden by one shattering Aim,  
> And terror hides in all our laughing faces  
> That had no will to die, no thirst for fame,  
> Hear our last word. In Hell we seek for Heaven;  
> The agony of wounds shall make us clean;  
> And the failures of our sloth shall be forgiven  
> When Silence holds the songs that might have been,  
> And what we served remains, superb, unshaken,  
> England, our June of blossom that shines above  
> Disastrous War; for whom we have forsaken  
> Ways that were rich and gleeful and filled with love.  
> Thus are we heroes; since we might not choose  
> To live where Honour gave us life to lose. 
> 
> Because We Are Going - Siegfried Sassoon

**Geonosis  
One hour after Enemy Contact**

Padawan Lan Alesha struggles to stay on her feet. The two blaster wounds to her lower torso burn as she swings her saber, blocking blaster bolts from the advancing battle droids. Geonosian warriors circle above, looking for targets of opportunity.

She stands over the body of her Master. Her friend and fellow Padawan, Tol Ven, a Rutian Twi'lek, lies at her feet, attempting to regain his. One of his lekku lies on the ground, severed by a random swing by one of the Geonosian flyer's blade. She can see the light fading from his blue eyes.

She feels the third member of their little group, the outlier, standing back-to-back with her. Elle Jaquindo can be heard grunting as she deflects bolts back into the mass of battle droids surging toward Lan's rear.

As she fights to continue swinging, she fights to touch the Force, to try and heal her wounds. _Twenty-one year old Padawans can't always make the Force multitask_ , she thinks wryly.

Incongruously, she thinks of the fourth member of their small age-group, Taliesin Croft. She hasn't seen him since their little celebration of his lightsaber spar several weeks ago. She tries to push the image of their grappling in the small meditation room, both of them struggling to keep the echoes of their cries from attracting attention, as they fell into each other, their robes pooled at their feet.

She shakes her head, trying to focus on her battle. She gives in to the feelings, as for a brief moment she focuses on something other than the pain of the wounds in her gut. She remembers other grappling and experiments with the two friends lying or swaying close to her, as well as other Padawans at the Temple. The pain eases as she smiles.

A momentary shift in the action to their right, as the droids try separating another group of Jedi from the phalanx gives her a respite. She goes to her knees to check on Tol. Her eyes well as she sees his beautiful blue eyes staring fixed at her own; at the sky. She looks up at the Chalactan. Elle had always been the aloof, hard-to-know member of their little group. Her arrogance, especially with those younger and less experienced than her had led her to clashes with all three of the others, especially Croft.

But they had never given up on her. She continued to spend her free time with them. Lan smiles amidst her pain as she remembers the laughter and tears of their shared pasts.

The Force screams at her as the attention of the battle droids returns to their area. She runs her left hand through her short blond hair. She gives one last look at the dead Padawan at her feet. At her Master. At Tol's. At Elle's. All dead in this endless onslaught. She turns her head to look at Elle. The Chalactan is struggling to be calm, but she is wracked by sobs. Lan brings her hand to the back of Elle's head and brings their foreheads together. _There is no death, but the Force._

Elle calms as they see the battledroids advancing. She touches Lan's cheek. Her eyes are calm. They turn from each other. They push their backs against each other to share that bit of contact. They can both feel each other remembering other instances of closeness. Remembering and focusing on laughter and joy.

Lan thinks of their absent friend. _I hope that you are safe Tal, my friend. May the Force be with you._

She gasps and loses her breath, as another blaster bolt slips through her lightsaber work and strikes her left shoulder. She grits her teeth and oddly, remembers Tal's version of the Code, the ancient version.

_There is death, yet the Force._

As she hears a scream from her back; as she feels Elle stiffen, and feels warmth flowing through her own body, she is comforted by the memory of his voice as he recited it to them.

_There is death, yet the Force._

XXXXX

Shaak Ti glances at Luminara Unduli, as she swings her lightsaber, deflecting bolts with ease to her front. Battle droids fall with each deflected bolt. Their eyes speak volumes of understanding as they look at one another.

Her bolts are killing droids. But two more take each one's place. She spares a glance down the line to her right. She sees the collection of Padawans and Knights struggling to fight the onslaught.

Her heart twists as she sees the numbers lying on the ground. So many. So young. She sends a quick prayer to the Huntress - a prayer of thanks that her Padawan will not die this day in this arena. She looks down as she thinks of the incredible selfishness of that prayer and that thought. _So many other young lives will end here, as well as old friends._

Perhaps even hers. As her arm swings almost automatically to send the bolts down range towards their source--the mark of an experienced Jedi Master, she realizes that she is free of pain, as the Force centers her.

That and the thought of a young Zeltron with laughing purple eyes, looking at her with her heart on her sleeve. She re-centers herself as a bolt slips off of her lightsaber blade. _Come on, Ti. Focus. You don't want to be dinner for the Akul._

A squad of droids breaks off from the main group and begins to double time to their position. Luminara and her quiet young Padawan pull closer to her. Luminara and Shaak smile at one another and charge the squad, who have been joined with three others. Barriss Offee, the young Padawan, follows them, but with a bit less joy and enthusiasm, as she concentrates on the task at hand.

_Ah, the seriousness of youth._

The three Jedi make quick work of the several dozen droid units. The aggressive assault momentarily rallies the besieged Jedi.

Momentarily.

Shaak's serene countenance momentarily gives way to frustration, as she bares her predator's teeth. She watches as more droids march into the arena in an endless stream, the cadence of their measured steps drowning out all other sounds--even the myriad whine of blaster bolts.

Screams from dying Jedi and the occasional strange ululation of falling Geonosians crowd the sense of her montrals. She can see the Jedi's circle draw closer. As the droids close in, she takes inventory of the remaining Jedi. Windu, the rescued Kenobi and Skywalker, as well as the young Naboo senator--her white jumpsuit ripped and bloodied from a strike from one of the beasts that had been tasked with their execution. A confiscated droid blaster is steady in her hands, as she blasts droids with calm accuracy.

Suddenly there is silence as the legion of droids deactivate. She vaguely remembered discussions of sending Ki-Adi Mundi and Plo Koon to one of the grounded Federation ships to shut down the attacking droids. She can feel the renewed anticipation of the remaining Jedi, as they tighten their grips on lightsabers and focus on the task of survival.

The feeling is dashed as the droids re-activate and begin their relentless advance again. The Jedi tighten their shrunken circle again. The droids stop. Dooku, the Separatist leader and traitor to the Order begins to speak. Ti can barely hear what he is saying. Luminara moves closer to Shaak.

"Sounds like he is offering us clemency," the Mirialan says, as she attempts to wipe some of the dust of the arena off of her tattooed face.

"I wouldn't count on Dooku's mercy," Shaak replies grimly.

Luminara nods grimly. Shaak sees her eyes play over her young Padawan with sadness. "I know, Shaak."

"We put up a good fight Luminara. " She smirks as she turns fully to the Mirialan Master. "I have to know, Master. Draq' Bel Iblis?" Luminara closes her eyes and looks into the Geonosian sky. She opens them and looks Ti in the eye. An unfamiliar matching of the Togruta's smirk plays over the olive features. She says nothing as she turns to the enemy.

Her Padawan looks back and forth at both of them with huge blue eyes. Even as they hear Master Windu's refutation of Dooku's 'mercy.'

They turn as they hear the cocking of the energy weapons. Luminara and Shaak hold their heads high, as they ignite their sabers. Barriss looks at them both and mirrors their look, even as Shaak can see tiny tremor run through the apprentice's slender body.

Shaak, for a moment, allows her mind to wander. To her apprentice's slow grin and looks of pensiveness as he worked to overcome a challenge. Of a small Togruta's Smirk and preternatural skill as a huntress of their shared heritage, of her challenge for Croft and Ti as teachers.

She thinks of those laughing purple eyes and feel of arms around her and the warm comfort.

She sends the memories away as she faces the droids. She can feel Luminara's and the other experienced Masters' resolve stiffen. The Padawans' imitation of their elder's strength.

The hum of the Geonosians above the arena changes as a thrumming vibration replaces them. A sound with a bass beat of energy underlying the tenor whine of laser bolts. The Jedi look up as dozens of large gunships lay into the ranks of droids. Several of the ships form a circle and begin to descend.

Enveloping the remaining Jedi in protective cocoon of laser and rocket fire. Explosions resonate throughout the arena as droids fly in all directions. Geonosians fall from the sky and the stands.

The gunships touch down. Doors slide aside as the extended turrets fire on the droids. Ti starts pushing Padawans and Knights toward gunships. She and Luminara separate with a brief nod. Shaak pushes Barriss towards the nearest gunship. She clambers aboard. Her right leg catches on the lip. An unfamiliar hand steadies her and helps her. She finds herself looking into the visor of a white-armored figure, a blaster rifle in his other hand.

"Thank you--?" she says. "CT-8734-42, Trooper Pal," a modulated, but unmistakably male voice says.

"General."

She starts at the title, attempts to correct him. But the trooper turns away from her. She looks at Barriss. Her face is stricken as she looks at the Jedi they leave behind. Shaak goes to her and brings her hand to the girl's cheek. She sends a calming wave to the Mirialan apprentice. Her blues eyes focus on the Master and she nods. The apprentice turns towards another Padawan. Shaak recognizes her as a Chalactan Padawan in the periphery of Croft's small circle of 'partners in crime.' Her complexion is pale and her face is wracked with pain.

The Togruta looks down at where Offee is working to heal. The Padawan, _Jaquindo_? is missing her left arm just below her elbow. Disregarding her own pain and fatigue, Ti walks over and places her hand on the girl's arm and sends her Force energy to assist the healer's. She looks into Jaquindo's eyes.

She sees nothing but emptiness. Nothing except for an intense bitterness. Her right hand is clamped around the cylinder of her lightsaber. Ti gently takes it from her and hangs it on her belt.

She turns from the Padawans and looks out of the gunship's door as the vessel circles the arena. She sees the Jedi dead.

She sees their numbers and their youth.

The last thing that she sees before the gunship completes its maneuver is a quick glimpse of three dead Knights in a cluster.

Next to a blonde Padawan, whose ready smile when she was with her fellow Padawans belied her seriousness when learning. A ready smile that grew when Taliesin Croft turned the full force of his grin on her. Her left hand rests on a Rutian Twi'lek who lies with one of his lekku severed. A Padawan who could usually be found either instigating or following on various schemes with the other two. Laughing at some shared joke with Croft.

The third Padawan of the dead Knights stands only a few feet away from her, empty and pain-wracked from the loss of the arm that lies near her friends.

She feels a burst of pain through the training bond. _I know, my apprentice. Mourn them now, before you are in this inferno._

Their shared grief--a grief only found in their bond staggers them both.

Dozens of shattered battle droids lie near their young bodies. The Jedi had sold themselves dearly.

For two of their own and an idea.

 


	7. The General

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Poet as Hero
> 
> You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented,  
> Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why  
> Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented--  
> My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry. 
> 
> You are aware that once I sought the Grail,  
> Riding in armour bright, serene and strong;  
> And it was told that through my infant wail  
> There rose immortal semblances of song. 
> 
> But now I've said good-bye to Galahad,  
> And am no more the knight of dreams and show:  
> For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,  
> And my killed friends are with me where I go.  
> Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;  
> And there is absolution in my songs. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Geonosis  
** **Line of Departure**  
 **Three hours after Jedi engaged**

Shaak Ti steels herself as the gunship flares in for a landing. Already she has learned the first word in a new lexicon - 'lartie.' A soldier's typical poetic abbreviation of an abbreviation, the word describes the battered vessel she is standing in.

Apparently, she is now a 'General' in the newly created Grand Army of the Republic.

Trooper Pal, her self-appointed escort and Master in all things military had patiently explained the term on the flight to this staging area. His forest-green visage was blank as he answered her few questions.

_Lartie, sir. Stands for the letters in the name. Low-Altitude Assault Transport/infantry. LAAT/i._

_Lartie_.

A slight smile creases her lips as she thinks of the seriousness of the trooper as he imparted the lesson.

Her smile vanishes as she remembers the gunship dropping Barriss and Elle Jaquindo off at an aid station. She had embraced the young healer and whispered into her ear. "Take good care of her, Padawan Offee. My Padawan would thank you for it."

Barriss had nodded. "I will, Master. May the Force be with you. Be careful."

She had turned to Elle, but the young woman's expression had been blank. Empty. Instead, she had reached up and yanked the single jewel from her forehead and thrown it out of the ship. She had stared defiantly at the Master as a slight trickle of blood lined the space between her angry royal blue eyes.

Ti had not given up. She had touched the wounded Padawan's cheek and sent more of her Force energy to the Chalactan.

The young woman's anger softens, but the bitterness remains.

There is a further softening as she departs the ship at the aid station. Ti hands her the lightsaber she had taken from her hand. Elle bows and says to Ti. "May the Force be with you, Master. Please tell Croft--." She stops; gathers herself. "Tell Croft I tried to take care of them."

"Elle," Ti begins. "It was not your fault. It was the will--."

Anger flares. "Don't tell me about the goddamned will of the Force, Master. It was a multitude of blaster bolts, droids, and Geonosian blades that ended them."

Ti doesn't back down. "Maybe so, young one. But you didn't wield those weapons. You didn't kill them. You fought for them. You bled for them. Give yourself time. Heal."

"I don't have time, Master. I have things to do, now." The young Jedi turns away and disembarks.

Ti closes her eyes as she brings herself back to the present. She had not even cautioned Jaquindo that revenge was not the Jedi way.

She steps off of the lartie. She walks purposefully towards the figure standing with a group of officers. Pal guides her to him. He wears the same green-dappled armor as the trooper.

XXXXX

Barriss Offee walks Elle over to the aid station. Vokara Che sees the young healer approach. The irascible Twi'lek actually appears to be happy to see her. "Padawan Offee," she says. "It is good to see you well and whole, child."

"Where can I help, Master?" Barriss asks. "Over there. Report to that medic and help with triage."

Che looks at the wounded Padawan. "Come with me, Padawan. We can help you."

"Master, please take others more seriously hurt," Elle says. "I need to get back to the fight."

The patented irascibility returns, as a dark look flows over her visage. "How long have you been a healer, Padawan?"

"I..."

"I am the senior healer of the Jedi Order, young one. Get your a..., yourself over to that tent with me so that we can maybe save the rest of your arm. So that maybe you can get back into the fight that I can see you spoiling for."

Elle looks as if to battle with the healer. In spite of her reserved nature, Barriss smiles to herself. _You are not going to win that one, my girl. You might as well go and lay down,_ the Mirialan thinks to herself.

Jaquindo slumps. She slowly turns and trudges to the tent. As she passes Vokara, the healer places her hand on Elle's uninjured shoulder. "Don't be so anxious to die, child. Your friends would not want you to sell yourself cheaply on their behalf."

Barriss' smile widens, as she silently cheers the healer's prescience. She can see the tears welling in Elle's eyes as she walks to the tent with Che.

XXXXX

Ti walks over to the clone Commander. He salutes her and pull his helmet off. She is startled by the fact that he has blue eyes rather than the amber to brown that she had seen on the wounded troopers and others without helmets.

She doesn't even attempt to return the salute; she instead bows to him - as deep as she would to Master Yoda.

"General Ti," the officer says, "I am CC-....."

"No, Commander, I would know your name."

A smile lightens the intense military gaze. "I am Commander Horn. 332nd Light Infantry. I am at your service."

"Thank you, Commander. You'll pardon me if I am not used to the title of 'General.' I have been a peacekeeper all of my life; this will take some getting used to."

Horn nods, his blue eyes, she could swear, were twinkling. "All of us have some things to get used to, Master Ti."

She smiles. "Well said, Commander. What are our orders? I came straight from the arena. I was only told to meet up with you."

"About fifteen klicks to the east of the Seppies' MLR..."

"Excuse me Commander. Thanks to Trooper Pal, I have only just learned what a lartie is. MLR?" Ti asks.

"Sorry, General. Still trying to wrap my head around this. MLR is the Main Line of Resistance. Plus the fact that I am trying to wrap my head around how Trooper Pal actually wound up on a lartie so far from the rest of us." He glares at the trooper.

Ti smiles. She cannot see Pal's face, but she can feel sheepishness emanating from him. "Apparently he was in the right place at the right time, Commander."

"Point taken, General. Pal," he says to the trooper. "that seems to be a good place for you. You are assigned to the General. Stick to her like glue. Clear?"

The trooper stiffens. "Sir."

_Do I really need my own shadow?_ Ti thinks.

"Back to our job, General," Horn says. "Fifteen klicks from the MLR at an angle is a Seppie droid control ship. Command  wants us to take that ship intact. They apparently think that even though we weren't able to shut the clankers," Ti smiles at the term,"to shut them down in the last attack, our nerds might be able to find some vulnerability to exploit."

"Only thing is, they can't spare any other battalions. The ship is only about another five klicks from a bug nest. If they decide to attack the Army's flank - we'll be in the way."

Ti nods soberly. "When do we go?"

"As soon as you board a lartie. I think that the best plan is to go in under their anti-aircraft fire, circling around from the north. They don't have any troops guarding it, except for the troops on the ship itself and their own guns. It is actually an auxiliary control ship - much smaller than the regular ones."

"Still going to be a helluva mess, if the flank attack happens. Even if it doesn't." Horn pauses. "Sorry for the language, General."

"No apology necessary. I have heard worse. I have a Corellian Padawan."

Horn smirks. "My sympathies." He blanches as he realizes what he has said. "Is he or she....?"

"As far as I know, he is fine. He isn't here. He is on a different mission."

Ti turns toward a lartie. "Let's go, Commander. We'll talk more en route."

She doesn't see a hooded figure boarding another lartie. She senses a disturbance; an unease, but she cannot place the sensation.

XXXXX

Explosions shake the lead gunship as Ti holds on to the ceiling. Beside her, the troopers give off a signature of grim determination. The ships are coming at an extreme low level--nap of the planet. For a second, she marvels at the skills of the lartie pilots.

She senses pain next to her. Trooper Pal, she is sure, would be as green as his armor trim if she could see his face.

The war-bred trooper is airsick from the jinking and turning of the evasive maneuvers.

She smiles. She silently places her free hand on his arm, where his brothers can't see. She can already sense the disdain from the other troopers.

Especially the Commander.

She feels Pal calm, his stomach settle. He looks at her. Even though she can't see his face, she can sense relief and gratitude coming from him.

Next to her, Horn grins under his helmet. "Thank you, General. We have been at a loss to cure his useless motion sickness."

Ti return the smile that she feels. "Right place at the right time, Commander."

They both sober as the adjacent lartie explodes. It had risen only a bit higher on an air current.

Horn brings his helmet closer to her face. "The problem, General is that we can't return fire. We can't risk damaging the ship; the defenses are on it, rather than around it."

She looks at the approaching ship. Her brain analyzes the problem.

"What kind of ground defenses would that type of ship have?"

He nods, understanding. "Not much, General. The armament is mostly at the dorsal of the ship. Their bombardment weapons are the only thing at the ventral; they are covered by the ground it rests on. I see your thoughts. The only thing is that we will have to fight our way through the ship's droid security force. That could be murder."

"Can the gunships maintain low altitude and cover us?" He pauses for a moment, his head cocked to the side. She realizes he is using his internal communication system.

She waits patiently. "Gunship commander says they might be able to, if we can get under the guns. He can't guarantee anything if the ship can depress its ordnance."

Ti nods. "I am open to any other suggestions, Commander."

"I don't have any, General."

"Do it," she says.

She feels the gunship dive and increase speed. Two more are hit and go down. Another moment and the explosions stop.

For a moment. Lighter jostling of the gunship starts, as light ground fire from a line of battle droids lances them.

She looks ahead and sees a line of rocks facing the droids. She raises her fingers to point. She sees Horn nod. "Good eye, General." His helmet tilts to the side, again.

The larties draw up into a line with her gunship at the center. Their silent ordnance begins to pound the droid positions as the ships flare in.

"Okay, you slackers! Let's do what the Republic pays us jack shit for."

Ti's heart blanches at his sarcastic entreaty. _You won't sell yourself that cheaply, my lads._

The larties empty and take off again. Hovering just above in a line. Continuing to pound the droid positions. Ti ignites her lightsaber and runs next to Horn. Pal is right beside her.

She begins to deflect the blaster bolts of the droids, as they reach cover behind the rocks.

"Pour it on, boys," Horn says. "Besh Company. Start heading around to flank from the left. Demon Company to the right. Flank'em! Get that entry hatch secured before they can self-destruct or take off."

"Commander, do you have any gunners that can hit the broad side of a Star Destroyer on those larties?" Ti asks with a predator's grin.

"Bet your ass, we do, General."

"See those shuttered ports on the ventral?" Ti asks, pointing them. She ignores his comment.

"Yes, sir."

"Take those out before they get them open. Those are the lifting repulsors. Destroy them and they can't lift off."

Before she can finish her sentence, rockets streak from the gunships.

The gunners can aim. The ports are destroyed.

"Well done, Commander."

"Yes, General. Now we only have to worry about dying from enemy fire or in a pillar of fire when the reactors overload."

"Such an optimist, Commander," Ti says with a smirk.

"It comes from being a Commander."

"I am going with one of the flanking companies. We're going to board and take out their ability to unleash your fiery pillar."

"Captain Tang!" Horn bellows. The bellowed-for officer runs up. "General Ti will be going with you. She has some crazy-ass Jedi idea to board the ship when you get there. Do what she says."

"Sir," the junior officer says.

"Good luck, General. I don't know if I am saying this right, but may the Force be with you."

"And with you, Commander. You said it perfectly," Ti replies.

She turns to Tang. "Let's go, Captain."

"As you say, General."

She feels that nagging little sensation of unease, again.

Elle Jaquindo watches Ti. She turns to the clone Captain of Demon Company and nods. They jog to the rest of the company and move off to the right.

 


	8. Marching Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is joined.
> 
> NOTE: Al'verd'ika - Mando'a for 'Little Commander.'

**Geonosis  
East of the MLR  
4 hours since Jedi engaged.**

Jedi Master Shaak Ti follows the young clone Captain, Tang around the flank of the droid positions. _Young. They're all impossibly young._

_If you take them literally, they are younger than little Ahsoka and her clan-mates._

The thought of the little huntress in this inferno was enough to to make Ti's heart stop.

Tang could actually be called the young Captain. His troops had told her as they moved out that he was from a later batch-- chronologically two years younger than most of the other clones.

It didn't stop Besh Company from following him into the ravine that he had found to provide cover for his men. Or him from looking for a way to keep his men alive for a while longer.

He holds up his fist. Ti and the clones stop. Ti listens with her huntress's preternatural hearing.  She can hear the clanking of an enemy observation post.

Right across the ravine that they were inching forward. She can feel the frustration with himself rolling off of Tang.

She places her hand on his shoulder, steadying him. She signals him and his troops to take cover. She walks around the troops and carefully makes her way forward. She gently pokes the tips of her montrals over the lip of the ravine.

She takes a deep breath and sends the Call out. A little higher on the scale. But not to the level that would bring the singing pain in a few weeks. Pain that could very well get her or her new troops killed.

In her mind's eye, the mind of a huntress, she is able to paint a picture of the enemy post. Three of the larger B2 battle droids. The ones that were smarter than the B1s. The ones she had heard called SBDs.

Ten Geonosian warriors. She can hear their clicking language, see them preparing their bladed, as well as their energy weapons.

She inches back to the position. She places her forehead against Tang's bucket, as she had learned that the troopers called their helmets. She touches the Force and gives him a picture of what she had seen.

She gives him a picture of what she intends. With a series of hand signals, he translates to the rest of the company.

Ti motions for the senior Sergeant. He has chosen five troopers. They look at her in anticipation.

She moves forward. She sees the Geonosian warriors. She focuses on their auditory receptors and the structure of the organs.

And she Calls. A Call that is coupled with the trills of her language. The droids pay no attention, as their auditory mechanisms are not tuned to that range. 

Or they think the noise is produced by an animal.

To the Geonosians, it sounds like a million fingernails on a million ancient chalkboards.

For any more than this number, it wouldn't have worked. But for these ten, they are confused and shaking their heads.

As predicted, as they are sentient, unlike the insects of Shili, who are repelled by the sound. They steel themselves and come to investigate.

And are promptly dropped by the five troopers waiting for them behind her.

Ti feels the Force singing through her, as she leaps from the ravine, her lightsaber ignited.

The SBDs fall in pieces. She can feel the eyes of the troopers on her in amazement.

She motions to them to advance. The company files in behind her.

They can hear the tempo of the blaster fire to the south increasing. From their brothers. Ti can hear screams coming from Horn's position. Tang looks at her. "General, Commander Horn has put out a call for reinforcements."

She raises her eye marking. Tang has that tilted-head look of the comm channel. "Apparently some of the clankers have climbed on top of the ship and are firing down with infantry weapons."

Ti mutters an expression that she had given up trying to stop her Padawan from using. Even after young Tano had apparently taken it up.

_Well, shit._

His tone is grim. His voice tremors a bit. "They are taking heavy fire and casualties." He shakes his helmet. "Command can't spare anyone."

The troopers look at Ti. She closes her eyes. "Captain Tang. You are to continue the mission. Get into that ship. Your comm/techs should be able to disable the reactors, so that they can't use them to blow up the ship. When Demon Company arrives, fold them into your command. My authority. You are in command. I will join you as soon as I can. I am going to try and take some pressure off of the Commander."

"How, General Ti?"

She smiles her feral huntress's smile. The trooper are taken aback by the sharp teeth. "Jedi stuff."

XXXXX

Ti runs toward the base of the ship. As she approaches, she feels as alive as she has in months. She laughs as she runs. She touches the Force and prepares.

She leaps. Her target is a strut half-way up.

She makes it. Her leg nearly folds as she lands.

Ti steadies herself. She throws her robe off. A hatch opens beside her. A B1 battle droid pokes its head out and says "Whaaa?"

A quick movement of her fingers and he goes flying.

She slams the door shut. She steels herself again. She stifles the pain in her leg.

She leaps. She leaps higher.

She lands at the top of the ship. She Force pushes the five SBDs and twenty B1s off of the top. The other thirty droids turn towards her. Her lightsaber flies into her hand.

The feral smile returns. The smile of a huntress. Not a warrior.

She sets to work.

XXXXX

Padawan Elle Jaquindo watches the clone Captain fall, a blaster bolt opening his chest. Her heart rips, as she remembers others ripped by those bolts. The troopers of Demon Company look expectantly at her.

"What do we do, Commander?" the next senior trooper asks.

She freezes. She can see all of them looking at her. She sees Tol and Lan looking at her from behind the troopers. They are more expectant than the clones.

She hears a Rylothi-accented voice in her head. _Come on Elle. You have to move. You are a good Jedi. Decide!_

The Ryloth accent is overlayed by a sweet, soft contralto.

She looks at the Sergeant. "Continue the mission. We have to get to the engines before they blow them."

"How do we do that?" The voice comes from the side of the Sergeant. "The clankers have stopped us. We've been cut in half. All we have is this little girl who doesn't know shit about fighting. A little girl who can barely stand from the pain. Oh," he continues, "did I mention she is missing half of her arm?"

Elle's eyes track to the ground.

The Sergeant turns and strikes the trooper in the faceplate. "Shut up, useless. What the hell else are we going to do?"

"What the hell is that?" another near-identical voice exclaims.

Elle follows his finger. She sees a tall figure, lekku streaming, leaping to the dorsal of the ship.

"That is a Jedi Master."

"Come on," she says. "Hit that goddamned hatch with everything."

XXXXX

_Okay. Maybe not the smartest thing that I have ever done. I seem to be channeling my inner Taliesin Croft._

Ti can feel her arm tiring from the lightsaber deflection. Her shoulders lance with pain.

What was it that Horn said? _The security force could be murder._

Hopefully she is drawing droids from Tang and the others. At least the droids aren't firing at Horn and his companies any more.

She clears her mind. Her saber arm moves as if independent of her mind. She sees more droids coming up. Movement catches her eye to the east. A huge dust cloud with lightning fast objects streaking above.

Explosions blanket the area of Horn's position.

 _We'll get in the way of a flank attack on the Army._ She can see the Commander's blue eyes twinkling as he says it.

Not very much in the way.

She draws into her self. She flings her arms out with the full power of a mature Jedi Master.

 _Got the mature part, right._ The sensation of a drawl and an easy grin resonates in her mind. 

She smiles. _Watch it, infant. I can still take you._  

_Only in your mind, my Mother-of-the-Hunt._

As she sends the remaining droids flying off, she thinks to herself that he must be close, if his voice resonates in her mind so strongly.

Her smile fades as she sees more droids riding to the top on STAP flyers from the east.

XXXXX

Taliesin Croft stands with his eyes closed on the bridge of an old Republic Consular cruiser, converted to a light frigate. He centers himself and listens to the babble of communications.

He senses Gregor standing next to him. He can smell the sludge that passes for caf from the wardroom. He holds his hand out and takes the caf.

"There is something going on at the eastern flank of the army. It may be a counterattack building. There is a battalion out there. They may be about to be overrun."

Gregor is hopeful. Since they had arrived in Geonosis orbit ten hours ago, they had been told to stay there. Croft and Drop had used the time for familiarizing the troopers with the planet and their foes. The hyperspace trip had been taken up with shipboard drills and hand-to-hand combat spars.

"Is there a Jedi with the battalion?"

"I don't know, sir. I'll tune to the freq."

Croft keeps his mind clear as the frequency is tuned.

"You know if you keep standing there with your eyes closed, I am going to dye that nest of a beard. Sir."

The voice is from a clear soprano. He sees its owner in his mind's eye. A bright smile, when it actually appears.

Lieutenant (junior grade) Jana Sloane. Naval captain of Republic Frigate 667. Known by its clone crew as 'the Bucket.'

Little regard for troopers. Or for their Jedi commander. _How come I am always surrounded by smartasses?_

 _It is your penance, young one,_ a dry voice replies in his head.

"You can try, Jana. But it might result in a bit of embarrassment. How will your crew feel if they see their Captain taken down a peg?"

He can feel her smile widen, as his mirrors hers. "That would entail our esteemed Jedi suddenly being able to beat me in a spar. Which he hasn't done yet."

"She's got you there, sir. Not bad for a squid."

"I thought you were on my side, Gregor."

All said in voices barely above a whisper. His eyes snap open as he hears something from the speaker.

"Broken Saber! Broken Saber! This is Savo 2. Our actual is down and General Ti has been separated from us. A large hostile formation is headed for our position and the MLR. I am calling Broken Saber."

Broken Saber. A Jedi is in danger of being captured and a unit is in danger of being overrun. A call for everything with a laser or a bomb or a rocket to head for their position.

Nothing seems to be able to respond.

Croft doesn't hesitate. "Captain. Break orbit."

"Now wait just a minute...."

He turns to Sloane. "Break orbit, Captain Sloane." There is something in his voice, in his features that makes Sloane close her mouth.

The thunder remains across her dark features. Her eyes flash, but she turns to the helm. She looks to the quartermaster. "Sound General Quarters, please."

"Course ma'am?"

Jana looks to Croft. Gregor speaks up. "Where the shit is the thickest, Captain."

A clarion horn begins to bellow, as more of the naval crew arrives on the bridge.

Tal turns to Gregor. "Pass the word for Drop and Alpha to get up here. Also, send some of the troopers to supplement the gun crews."

He closes his eyes again. _I'm coming, Master._

XXXXX

Ti deflects the bolt into the last STAP flyer. So far, the Geonosian fighters have ignored her, concentrating on the clones.

Strangely, she can see bolts being deflected back from the main positions. She sends her Force sense in that direction.

She feels a bitter, painful Force sense return to her.

An observer would see her usual calm, serene visage.

Taliesin Croft would see her frustration.

_Damn her._

A heavy laser bolt comes at her. _Looks like the fighters have found me._

XXXXX

Elle Jaquindo sends another bolt to its source. She looks around her. She sees white and green clad bodies strewn around her. She sees two sets of blue eyes staring at her from the floor of an execution arena.

She shakes her head. She is swaying from pain of her wound. Her lightsaber forms are awkward without her left hand. The deflection of the bolts are inaccurate, something she had prided herself on in Form III, not the fact that the little Togruta brat routinely bested her in dueling spars.

She can feel tears running down her face. _I_ _am a Jedi. There is no passion, only serenity. No death, only the force._

Her heart drops as she sees Lan and Tol's staring eyes again.

A clone walks up to her. "Commander, our lines are about to break. We won't be able to hold out much longer."

Elle centers and focuses on the trooper. "What is your name, trooper?"

"Trooper Pal, Commander. I was sent by Captain Tang to tell Commander Horn that they have taken the lower levels of the ship." The blank visage of his visor stares at her. "We don't know if General Ti is alive or not."

"She's alive,” Elle says. “She's pretty pissed at me."

Pal says nothing. "What are your orders? The Commander is badly wounded, the other Captains are dead."

Elle lets go of her fear. Of the anger at the enemy, as the trooper looks to her. "Pal. You're in command of the remaining troops. Consolidate your position and hold out as long as you can. Don't let yourself get surrounded. When you can't hold out, get the hell out of here."

"Sir. Clones don't run. They especially don't run when their Jedi is in danger."

"That's an order. I'm not your Jedi. General Ti is. I am someone who is dead already."

She turns to the enemy. Pal grabs her right arm and spins her to face him. "No hell, you're not, girl. You are going to stay here and fight for these men. These men who have put their trust in you."

"I said, I am not your Jedi..."

"Bullshit, Commander. You're all that we have. Get that fucking glow stick of yours and do what General Ti would do. We will do our best to protect you. It's what we were bred to do."

Elle Jaquindo closes her eyes. She feels a presence coming close. A presence that she has not felt in months. She smiles. She opens her eyes. "Okay, Pal. We'll try it your way. Rally your men."

She can sense the smile. He turns to the troopers. In a bellowing voice, he yells "Stand-to!"

XXXXX

Shaak Ti is reeling. A blaster bolt from another STAP rider has slammed into her saber shoulder. She stands alone for now, but she can here the clanking of more droids from below.

The dust cloud has gotten closer to her troopers. The fighters have backed off as the droids and Geonosians close.

She feels a new vigor from the bitter girl with her troops.

 _Her troops._ She smiles. For the first time, she accepts the fact that they are hers.

She turns towards the hatch. The huntress's smile spreads across her face.

As the first droid appears, Ti is distracted by a roaring sound from above. The droid explodes in the hatch.

She looks up, as she feels a familiar, loved presence. A battered, converted _Consular_ frigate is descending. Her turrets open on the approaching dust cloud.

She looks at the hatch on the side of the frigate.

Her Padawan stands in the hatch. His green saber ignited. He leaps and he is standing next to her. Several clone troopers descend at a more leisurely pace on cables fired into the droid ship.

Croft, his easy grin intact, takes her left shoulder under his. "Thought you might need some help, Master." His eyes seem to have something in them. Must be the dust. _It's catching._ "It is good to see you, Master."

Ti says nothing. She pulls his head to her shoulder. "It is good to see you, Taliesin. What kept you?"

His grin turns to a smirk. "Stopped for a decent breakfast on the way in, Master."

"Hope there is _Akar_ sausage. But none of that glutinous mess that you Corellians enjoy."

Their laughter rises. They both start at blaster fire from the hatch. They raise their sabers as Croft's commandos land and train their weapons on the hatch.

A forest-green trimmed clone armored figure walks casually through the hatch. "Someone call for an evac?" a young voice asks.

The _Bucket_ has moved off. It begins to send more turbo laser and blaster fire into the now-retreating dust cloud. The sky is clear of Geonosian fighters, as Jedi fighters start to appear.

A medic is seeing to Ti's shoulder. The largest clone she has ever seen walks over to Tal and salutes. "Orders, Commander?"

She feels an odd sort of pride as Tal returns the salute. "See to General Ti. Let's get her off of this thing."

"As you say, Commander," the trooper says.

"So you're his Master?" The clone's blunt curiosity is refreshing.

"Yes, Sergeant, I am."

"My sympathies. I think that I will buy you a drink, if you'll allow it, General. Seeing that I am the poor fool who has to keep him alive now."

Ti laughs as she has not laughed since Corellia. _Actually since I was in the arms of a beautiful, laughing Zeltron on Coruscant._

_Ages ago._

The subject of the laughter merely rolls his eyes. "I'll buy the first round, since I am apparently the cause of all of this hilarity."

Ti stops laughing. She sobers. Both Croft and Drop see it. "Tal, please get me to the surface. I must see to my men."

Croft and Drop look at one another and nod. "General, if I may," Drop says. "We are Mando in all but birth. Most of us have adopted their customs."

Ti nods. "You may find comfort in the fact that the comrades of the dead mourn and Remember them. Their names and faces."

He takes a deep breath. "But they also take comfort in the fact that the dead are merely marching far away. They are closer than you think."

Shaak Ti, Jedi Master and General in the Grand Army of the Republic, nods. She turns and walks unaided to where the _Bucket_ has returned, her ramp extended to the dorsal of the droid ship.

" _Al'verd'ika_? Your orders?"

"Get everybody out of here. Help with the wounded. There is a Star Destroyer or an Assault Ship on its way to tractor this thing back to the scientists."

"As you say, sir."

Croft watches as the frigate descends to the killing ground. The killing ground of his Master's battalion.

XXXXX

Ti sits holding her Commander as he breathes his last. The medic from Tal's ship can do nothing for Horn, as she kneels with his head in her lap. Her hands caress his face as his breath labors. The gaping wound in his chest makes a ragged noise as he struggles to breathe.

With an effort, he lifts his head up and whispers to Ti.

One word.

 _Buir_.

His eyes fix on a distant scene as she feels him relax. She closes his eyes. Those strange blue eyes with a bit of a twinkle in them.

She touches his cheek; looks up at Trooper, _no Captain, apparently_ , Pal. His helmet is off, showing his earnest face. A face only slightly different from the one in her lap.

_Longer hair, though._

"What did he say?" Ti asks.

"It is a Mando'a word. _Buir_. It means father. Or in your case, Mother.

She nods.

A man bred by science. In a cold laboratory by cold beings.

He still cries out for a mother at the last.

She releases his hand and gently lays his body on the ground.

"Where is Padawan Jaquindo?" Ti asks, her eyes growing stormy.

"I put her ass on the first lartie to medical."

"Did you put her under guard, this time?"

"There might have been several brothers who were walking wounded; who might have been instructed to sit on her, if need be. Plus, I took this away from her."

He hands Ti a lightsaber. She smiles and takes it, but then grows sober at the cost.

Pal sees her expression. "Don't go too hard on her, General. She fought well and saved a good number of troopers." His face grows troubled. "Even though she was intent on not walking away from this."

"They all fought well, Pal."

"How many, Pal? How many are 'marching far away?" she asks.

He nods and smiles at her use of the expression. _This is my Jedi._

"All two hundred of Besh company made it. Tang fought well and kept his men alive. Fifty effectives are left from Demon Company."

"How many from the main force?"

Pal doesn't answer. Ti looks at him. "Seventy five effectives from the main body."

Out of a thousand men.

She looks at Horn.

_Marching far away._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you forgotten yet?...  
> For the world's events have rumbled on since those gagged days,  
> Like traffic checked while at the crossing of city-ways:  
> And the haunted gap in your mind has filled with thoughts that flow  
> Like clouds in the lit heaven of life; and you're a man reprieved to go,  
> Taking your peaceful share of Time, with joy to spare.  
> But the past is just the same--and War's a bloody game...  
> Have you forgotten yet?...  
> Look down, and swear by the slain of the War that you'll never forget.
> 
> Do you remember the dark months you held the sector at Mametz--  
> The nights you watched and wired and dug and piled sandbags on parapets?  
> Do you remember the rats; and the stench  
> Of corpses rotting in front of the front-line trench--  
> And dawn coming, dirty-white, and chill with a hopeless rain?  
> Do you ever stop and ask, 'Is it all going to happen again?'
> 
> Do you remember that hour of din before the attack--  
> And the anger, the blind compassion that seized and shook you then  
> As you peered at the doomed and haggard faces of your men?  
> Do you remember the stretcher-cases lurching back  
> With dying eyes and lolling heads--those ashen-grey  
> Masks of the lads who once were keen and kind and gay?
> 
> Have you forgotten yet?...  
> Look up, and swear by the green of the spring that you'll never forget. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon


	9. Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wraiths
> 
> They know not the green leaves;  
> In whose earth-haunting dream  
> Dimly the forest heaves,  
> And voiceless goes the stream.  
> Strangely they seek a place  
> In love’s night-memoried hall;  
> Peering from face to face,  
> Until some heart shall call  
> And keep them, for a breath,  
> Half-mortal ... (Hark to the rain!)...  
> They are dead ... (O hear how death  
> Gropes on the shutter’d pane!)
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Geonosis  
Two Days after the Battle of the Arena**

Taliesin Croft fights to the light as his mind shatters. Lan Alesha stares at him, her blue eyes fixed - fixed beneath a charred hole in her forehead. She tries to seize him and pull him towards her chest - a mockery of their embraces in moments of life and light. He sees the holes in her stomach and her chest.

He feels a pair of hands on his shoulders from behind. He turns and sees another pair of blue eyes staring fixedly into his. A pair of blue eyes surrounded by bright blue skin.

Skin drenched in blood. Blood from the remains of a severed lek. Both Alesha and Tol Ven grasp at him....

He starts awake. He realizes that he is lying in his own rack. The bedclothes thrown off. His body drenched in sweat. In his own quarters on the _Bucket_. With two sets of amber eyes in two nearly identical faces looking down on him.

He tries to raise his head. The offending weight doesn't respond.

The senior medic, Pecker, lifts his head up to a sitting position. "Easy, Commander. We've got you."

Croft realizes that the other face belongs to Drop, the senior NCO. Drop smirks. "Really hope that you weren't having a good wet dream, _al'verd'ika_."

"What happened?" Croft asks, his breathing slowing.

"We heard you scream. Pecker used the medical override to get in."

"Did anyone else hear me?"

Pecker shakes his head. "Nossir. Captain Sloane on the other side of you is on the bridge. Only Drop and I heard you."

"What happened, Commander?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing, Peck. Just a bad dream. Sorry if I woke you two."

The medic looks at him with unbridled skepticism. "It is my experience, Commander Croft, men don't scream like that unless they're getting laid, dying, or having a nightmare.” He grins. “I don't see Captain Sloane in here. You're breathing. So it must be a nightmare."

'I - wait, what? Sloane? No!"

Drop looks at Peck with a knowing smirk. _Told you._

"I think, former Sergeant Drop, that you might want to act like your namesake and drop it," Croft says darkly. "I am a Jedi."

"All that means is that you don't get caught."

The medic wisely changes the subject, as he sees the expression on his Commander's face. "So, Commander Croft. Are you going to tell your medic about your dreams?"

"Not just no, but hell, no."

The two men stare at each other. Neither flinching. Finally, Peck sighs and says, "Do you want me to give you something to help you sleep, _al'verde_?"

Croft relents. "No thank you, Peck. I appreciate your concern, but I am okay. By the way, I haven't said anything, but find yourself another name. Just because Alpha gave you that, doesn't mean that you have to keep it until the end of time."

The medic smiles. "I am actually okay with it,Commander. It is actually part of an ancient and honorable title for military medics. Just one that you don't use in polite company. Did sound weird when General Ti used it. I like it when you shorten it to Peck, though."

Drop says, "Peck, it is, then."

"Thanks, Peck. Get some sleep."

Drop and Peck exchange glances. The medic rises and pulls a large bottle from his bag. He hands it to the NCO. "Good night, sir."

"Good night, Sergeant."

Drop gets up and drops his huge frame into one of the chairs.

Croft looks at him. "Good night, First Sergeant."

"Nope." He opens the bottle and takes a healthy swig. He hands it to Croft.

After a moment, Croft downs his own slug.

When his respiration returns to normal, he looks at Drop, expectantly.

"You may be able to bullshit him, but not your First Sergeant. Tell me."

Croft takes another sip. He hands the bottle to the trooper.

"Two of my best friends were killed in the arena. Two of the three that I grew up with that remained in the Order."

"Was the third that poor little girl missing an arm?"

"Yeah. She was kind of an outlier. Friends, but there was a good deal of fighting and arguing going on."

"Why is that?" Drop asks.

"She was a bully to those younger or below her in status. All of us at one time or another, defended some youngling from her shitty behavior." Croft closes his eyes. "That's in the past. Ti tells me that she intended to die two days ago. She may still have a death wish. Only one of Ti's troopers talked her out of it and shamed her into fighting and saving a lot of lives."

Drop smiles. "One thing that you wise and powerful _jetti_ don't realize is that we are here to protect you from yourselves, as well." His expression grows fierce. "At least I am."

"All I know is," Croft continues, "is that no matter our past, a friend--a fellow Jedi is broken and in pain."

"So did you have _that kind_ of past with her?" Drop asks.

"Yeah, we all did with each other. Only way you could learn. The Masters didn't teach everything. Except two days of very clinical lectures and films. And endless lectures on the dangers of attachment."

Drop looks towards the overhead. "This is way too much information. More than I ever cared to know about _jetti_ sex education."

"You did ask."

"So I did, _al'verd'ika_. What are you going to do?"

"Don't know. I wasn't in that battle. I don't have shared experiences with her."

"You have two very close and intimate friends that you shared with her, who are now dead. You didn't watch them die like she did, but you obviously have felt it. I think that's a pretty kriffing powerful shared experience."

Croft thinks about this for a moment. "How did you get so smart and insightful, Drop?"

"That was the part of the test tube that didn't break."

Croft looks downcast. Drop's eyes flash. "Don't you even fucking dare, Croft. I have no regrets of what I am." The NCO calms. "You're Mando, aren't you?"

"Half. On my mother's side, apparently."

"Know anything about their culture?"

"A little from, study. I was five when I came to the Temple. I have learned more about the Corellian side, recently."

"Marvelous. Our commander comes from a long line of psychopathic, charming gamblers, who can blow things up and throw things with his mind."

"Pretty much."

"Do you know Mando'a?" Drop asks.

"Yes," Croft says, "It is one of my languages."

"There is something called the Remembrance. It might help you and your friend. It is a recitation - a benediction for the dead. You recite it daily along with their names." Drop pauses as if remembering. He begins to recite, " _Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum"_

Croft listens and haltingly repeats it. His brow knits as he translates. "You are dead, I am alive, as long as I remember you, you are eternal."

"Got it in one, Commander. I recite mine every day with the names of my dead."

He looks grim. "Of course, with this shitfest starting, they may have to be unnamed but remembered." He smiles, a surpisingly gentle expression in his fierce visage. "You and that girl should try it. What are the names of your dead?"

"Lan Alesha and Tol Ven."

Drop looks at him squarely. "I will Remember them with you, Taliesin Croft."

Croft dips his head in reply. "Thank you, Sergeant Drop."

"You think that you can sleep now, Commander?" Drop asks.

"No. I think that I am done."

"Well, I have it on good authority that Captain Sloane is off duty about right now. She might could use some company."

"Drop. I don't know what you are talking about. You really don't need to spread gossip."

 _"Al'verd'ika_ , don't bullshit me. You live next door. She ain't exactly quiet. Neither are you. Besides, if you really want to be discreet, you should go to her cabin. Nobody is on the other side. Peck and I won't have to put pillows over our heads."

Croft has the sense to look contrite. "Sorry."

"Don't be. Grab the light where you can, Tal."

Drop gets up. Croft rises. They shake hands. The trooper turns and leaves Croft to his thoughts.

After a moment, he pulls on a pair of uniform fatigue pants, and an exercise shirt and walks out of the cabin.

XXXXX

Ti watches the young Padawan look at her friends in the stasis pods. Ti has already looked at their ravaged bodies. She is glad that her Padawan will not see them like this; that he will remember them as they were.

Whole and unbroken.

Unlike the Padawan standing over them.

She watches Elle Jaquindo's face as she turns away from them. There is no sign of the broken emotions that Ti feels rolling off of the young Chalactan's Force sense in waves on her blank face.

They exit into the main corridor of the Star Destroyer together. Ti can see the lines of pain on Elle's face.

"Padawan Jaquindo, please come meditate with me. You need to open yourself to the Force. Only then, can you begin to heal."

"Master, all due respect. I can't heal. My arm's nerves are too far gone to put a prosthesis on it, like Anakin Skywalker is getting. I had a hard enough time deflecting those bolts off of those troopers. I am of no use to anyone. I should've died in the arena with..."

She stops. Ti's face loses its serenity. "Suicide is not the Jedi way, my girl. Your friends died. You did not. It is the will of the Force. It was also not your time. You have things to do.” Ti feels a tiny bit of anger rise in her chest.  "As far as your nerves go in the arm, you have only yourself to blame. You left the aid station where Che was working on you."

Ti can see Elle’s  her own anger rising, but Ti doesn't relent. "Maybe it is time that you stop with the self-pity. Maybe that will help you find clarity, as to what to do next."

Elle's self-control shatters, as tears and wracking sobs tear through her body. Ti takes her into an empty room. She encircles the young woman as best as her injured shoulder will allow. She closes her eyes in her own pain as she remembers another young woman wracked with sobs.

 _Not for herself, but for Ti._ She closes her eyes and shakes her head, clearing it of the sights and sounds of that morning with Dani.

She reaches out and touches the Force, opening it to her and Elle. She feels a warmth through her being. The girl's sobs subside.

She pushes away from Ti with her remaining hand. They sit in the observation room that they have entered.

Elle opens her eyes. "Master Ti, I don't know what to do. I don't want to go back to Coruscant. I can't face them."

"Why not? You have nothing to atone for, Elle."

"I want to stay out here. I don't know what I can do, but I feel that my destiny is out here."

"At least for now," she finishes.

Ti searches her feelings. "Elle, I ask that you meditate for a day--see if you can find clarity. You are confused and hurting."

"In the meantime, I will try and figure something out. I don't know what, but I will meditate on it as well."

For the first time since that battle, a smile crosses Elle Jaquindo's lips.

For an instant.

She stands. She bows to Shaak Ti. "Thank you, Master."

As she turns to go, she says, "I hope that Croft knows how lucky he is."

Ti smiles. "My child, I am the one who is fortunate."

XXXXX

Croft runs his fingers along the smooth skin of the naval officer's ribcage. Jana Sloane lies on her side, her back to him. He traces the tattoo; the single Aurabesh word inked into Sloane's dark skin.

 _Survivor_.

He doesn't ask. He can see her lips curve into a slight smile, but she doesn't tell.

He reaches down and traces the word with his lips. The salty taste of her sweat sends all thoughts of words from his head. He traces upward and over, as a sound emanates from her lips.

A growl, mixing with a purr.

Sloane twines her hand into his hair, centering on the Padawan braid. A mischievous grin splits her face as she grasps the twisted bit of hair.

He lets loose a growl of his own as she tugs the braid and him from where his lips have settled on her breasts. He follows the tug, a smile moving to his lips. Their smiles meet softly.

Jana drops her hand to his head, abandoning the symbol of his life. Their tongues meet as the light builds.

And blinks.

And chimes.

A mutual groan flows from both.

Croft's head slumps on the naval officer's breasts. With a different growl, Sloane slaps the button on the panel near her bunk.

"Somebody better be dead."

"Sorry, Captain," comes the apologetic tone of her executive officer, "Priority message from Fleet. It's Admiral Yularen. His apologies; he knows it's your off-watch period, but he needs to talk to you."

Sloane sits up. Her elbow connects with Croft's jaw. She ignores his yelp.

"Ignore it," Croft says, rubbing his jaw.

"Are you shitting me? You want me to ignore a call from one of the most powerful Admirals in the Fleet, just so you can get your rocks off? Really?"

A small voice vibrates against her stomach, where his head has come to rest after the elbow to the face. "I wasn't planning on being the only one."

She rolls her eyes, but the smile on her face is genuine. She runs her hand through his hair quickly and pulls the sheet over her.

And his head.

"Put it through, XO. Audio only, if possible."

"Aye, aye, ma'am."

"Captain Sloane." Admiral Wulff Yularen's melodious baritone comes through the speaker. "It is good to hear from you, Jana. I understand that you had a little bit of excitement. Those damned reckless Jedi."

She winces as a pair of teeth lances into her belly. "Yessir. But to Commander Croft's credit, his action did save a lot of troops, as well as helping General Ti accomplish her mission."

A soft kiss touches the place where the teeth had previously marked.

"Point taken, Captain. That droid ship is already paying dividends. R&D has already got a design for an anti-droid EMP grenade from the data mined."

Sloane smiles. Her brief meeting with Croft's Master had been one of the most memorable of her young life. Ti had bowed and shaken her hand, remarking, "Thank you, Captain. For trusting my Padawan. My troopers were glad to see your ship rolling in."

Nothing about her own relief. All about her troops. A General for five minutes and her troops would probably follow her anywhere.

She had seen it and heard it for herself, as her ship had evacuated the wounded. The troops were concerned about 'their Jedi' and her wounded shoulder. They had been filled with the stories of her leap to the top of that ship and the dozens of battledroids that had flown off of the top in pieces.

Of course, the numbers grew into the thousands of droids by the end of the day.

She comes back to herself and the conversation. "Sorry, Admiral. Just thinking about the dead."

"I know, Jana. It's why I put you there."

Sloane's mind wanders again as she feels a sensation of breath against hair. Well south of her belly. She gasps as Croft touches her center with his lips; as his tongue lights her mind. A gasp escapes her lips.

"Jana," Yularen's voice comes through the speaker, full of concern, "Are you alright? I hadn't heard of any injury."

She manages to find her voice. "No, Admiral, I am fine. No injury. How're you?" She winces at that.

 _Can't vouch for someone else,_ she thinks as the explosion builds. She shakes her head and makes a choice.

She closes her eyes and lifts her feet. With a bit of contortion, she places them on the Jedi's shoulders.

She is satisfied by the muffled thump and curse as her powerful legs shove him off of the bed and to the deck.

"What was that noise, Captain?" Yularen's suspicion-filled voice asks.

"Someone dropped some useless piece of equipment on the deck, somewhere, sir."

Yularen seems satisfied. "I have to run, Captain. The new Fleet Commander of the Open Circle Fleet is due within the hour. I just wanted to give you a heads up. You're getting orders in the next few minutes. You've got three hours before movement. Could be very hairy for you and those commandos. Take care."

Jana's face is pained, as she thinks of the Jedi lying on her deck, trying to catch his breath, and his men. "We won't let you down, Admiral," she manages to whisper.

"I know that you won't, Captain. You have always brought honor to the Fleet in everything that you do. Good luck and pass a message to your Jedi."

_My Jedi._

"Tell him, 'May the Force be with you."

"I will, Admiral."

"Yularen out."

"You're going to need the Force, there, bud, when I get through with you."

"The head injury you just caused has already done for me."

She gets up and walks over to him. "I see that there is one part of you still alive."

With a quick movement, she straddles him. Both of their gasps are audible as she sinks on him.

Just as she begins her movement, the loudspeaker above them comes on. "Commander Croft to the bridge. Incoming transmission from Command."

They both curse. Tal makes to get up.

Someone else doesn't cooperate. She stays where she is, rocking up and down. She places her hand on his chest; pushing him back to the deck.

"You're going to be a little late, bud. The movement obviously isn't going to be a quick one. We've got some living to do."

XXXXX

Ti feels a bright presence in the Force. She smiles and turns from her meditation as Yoda and Mace Windu walk into her quarters.

She rises and bows. "Good afternoon, Masters."

"Hello, young Master. Healed, your shoulder has, hmm?" Yoda asks, a warm smile on his green visage.

"Yes, Master, I am at your disposal."

Windu nods. "I am very glad to see you well, Shaak. You did extremely well."

"Yes, Master. But at high cost."

Windu looks down. His eyes are sad. "We are going to pay an even higher cost in the coming months, Shaak. In Jedi and in clones."

"Young lives, that cost will be in, Master," Yoda says grimly.

Windu doesn't pause. "We have a task for you, Master. One that will probably be the most important of any Jedi in this war."

Ti's eyes flash. "You're taking my troops away. Taking me out of the field."

Windu nods. "We're taking those away. The 332nd will be given to Jedi Ortan. We're giving you a greater responsibility. A responsibility that could be the difference between life and death for many."

"Sending you to Kamino, we are," Yoda says. "To oversee the training of the clones - in our way. In yours."

"Your skill in training Jedi for the Hunt, even though I didn't agree with it, has been of great benefit to those Jedi. I see it in your Padawan, who although he is an annoyance," Ti smiles at that. "he will be a great Jedi."

"When you finally knight him," Ti says dryly.

Windu doesn't rise to the bait. "We think that you will be the difference between life and death for these clones."

"The only difference between life and death for those clones would be to negotiate with the Separatists. To actually do what Jedi were meant to do."

Neither Master has a response.

Ti breaks the impasse. "Very well, Masters. I would rather that you knight Croft and give him the 332nd. But I will accept your assignment."

Yoda nods. Both at her acceptance and her words. "A different path, young Croft has. Just as a secondary mandate, you have, Master."

Windu takes up the cause. "You, as a member of the Council, are familiar with the mystery of the clones and Master Sifo Dyas."

"Yes, Master," Ti replies.

"Darkness surrounds this entire endeavor, Shaak," Windu says. "We need, you, as someone who combines a thoughtful mind, with certain skills you might have picked up from your Shadow."

_Meaning Croft. I guess I am going to be a spy, as well as a teacher._

"Get to the bottom of this, you will, young Master," Yoda says. "You must."

"Yes, Masters," Ti responds. "I have a request. Young Padawan Jaquindo."

"Yes. Unfortunate that is."

"I request that she be assigned to me when Croft is knighted and she has healed more."

Windu purses his lips. "She will probably never be even able to be a Consular."

"No. But I sense that she has great potential as a teacher. With proper guidance."

"She certainly hasn't shown that in the past. I nearly had to pull Initiate Tano off of her before departure."

"Yes, Master. But I feel that her losses and her experience on Geonosis have forged a difference in her."

"We'll see. But if there is even a hint of self-destructive behavior, such as took place in your battle, she will come home."

"Understood, Master. In the meantime, I would request that she be assigned to Croft's unit. He can keep an eye on her and perhaps she can learn more about the clones. These are elite troopers; she will learn much from them."

"As much as I hesitate to assign anyone to Croft, you may have a good idea, as long as she can heal," Windu cautions.

Ti nods and continues, "She can assist the naval crew when the commandos are on active operations. Their medic can assist with her recovery. I have a clone in mind to teach her, until such time she can report to me."

Windu looks at her. "Do you think it is a good idea, to put a wounded Jedi on an active combat vessel?"

Ti looks directly at him. Her huntress' eyes lance him. "I think she has earned the right on Geonosis to contribute where she can."

Windu holds her stare, but nods. "Well said," Master Yoda says. "The Force will be her guide. Meditated you appear to have on this, Master Ti."

_No, actually, I came up with this in the last five minutes._

She bows to both Masters. "Thank you, Masters. I appreciate your confidence and indulgence."

They both return her bow. "May the Force be with you, young Master," Yoda says.

_I've done the best I can for you Elle. The rest is up to you._

She smiles as a brief drawling thought passes through her Force-sense. _Gee, thanks, Master._

She notices Windu's pensive expression as she exits.

 


	10. Everybody Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dreamers
> 
> Soldiers are citizens of death's gray land,  
> Drawing no dividend from time's to-morrows.  
> In the great hour of destiny they stand,  
> Each with his feuds, and jealousies, and sorrows.  
> Soldiers are sworn to action; they must win  
> Some flaming, fatal climax with their lives.  
> Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin  
> They think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives.
> 
> I see them in foul dug-outs, gnawed by rats,  
> And in the ruined trenches, lashed with rain,  
> Dreaming of things they did with balls and bats,  
> And mocked by hopeless longing to regain  
> Bank-holidays, and picture shows, and spats,  
> And going to the office in the train. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

Trooper Bozo is bored out of his skull. He sits at the comm panel of the _Bucket_ on watch. An ill-advised sarcastic response to a question from the First Sergeant had led him to this extra duty; time that was supposed to be spent reflecting on his life and his various sins.

That had taken up the first fifteen minutes of the eight hour stretch.

He looks over at his sole companion on the bridge. A companion whose monosyllabic grunts had not helped pass the time.

Said companion, a thickset Tholothian gunners's mate is sitting at the tactical table engrossed in a datapad.

Bozo is pretty sure that the Tholothian has been reading the same page for the last hour.

For the fifth time in as many hours, Bozo has tried to engage the naval rating in conversation.

"What are you reading?" Bozo asks.

"A book."

"What kind of book?"

"The kind with words."

_This is pretty much how it had gone the other four times._

"Come on, swabbie. This is hard enough as it is."

The rating looks up at Bozo over the top of the datapad. "Don't call me swabbie, shit-wit. You can call me Guns, if you like. Or, even better--you can not call me at all."

Bozo stands up. With a sigh, the rating stands up and puts his datapad down. He shrugs off the beat-up brown nerf-leather jacket that doesn't seem like something a chief gunner's mate on a tiny frigate would own.

At that moment, the comm panel dings again. Bozo looks at his potential opponent. "Saved by the bell, swabbie."

"Guess that you are, groundpounder."

The gunner's mate returns to his romance novel. One of three books on the ship that don't involve Republic regs or technical know-how.

Bozo busies himself decoding the message cover. His eyebrows raise at the priority and the message.

_Tell your Six to get his useless ass to a holocomm._

It is signed with a cryptic signet. A signet that represents a certain mythical animal on one of the five worlds.

Bozo has been deflecting calls from Corellia for the past hour; as Commander Croft has not answered his page.

He doesn't try again. Instead he puts a call through to the reason that he has been exiled to this uncomfortable chair in the company of a grumpy naval rating.

XXXXX

"I better think that you have a good reason for disturbing my beauty sleep, Bozo." The owner of the voice towers over Bozo. Bozo can feel the smirk coming from behind a romance novel.

 _Kamino knows he needs it,_ comes unbidden to Bozo's mind.

"First Sergeant, Commander Croft is not answering his page. I have been deflecting calls and priority messages from someone calling themselves the Dragon, on Corellia. They seemed to have gotten more pissed as the hour passes. I didn't want to bring this to Alpha. Since Gregor is off-ship, thought you might want to know."

Drop actually smiles. "You did the right thing, son."

"May I ask where the Commander is?"

"He is improving Army-Navy relations."

A snort projects from the tactical table. Drop turns. "You got something to say, Fatso?"

"Only that the sole person that might pique the interest of your walking hard-on of a Jedi has better taste than that."

"You're assuming a lot, mate," Drop says.

"Well, he ain't going for any of the ratings. The XO is sixty if he is a day. The Engineer and the Navigator seem to be into each other. That leaves the skipper."

"You really need to stick to your romance novel, sweetheart."

"Just sayin'."

"Care to back that up with some creds?"

"You're on, musclehead."

XXXXX

Croft and Sloane are laughing as they come onto the bridge. _Well, at least they ain't holding hands,_ Drop thinks to himself. Both are clad in easy familiarity with their fatigues and exercise shirts. Drop smirks at Croft's and the captain's damp hair.

He looks at the gunner's mate. The rating sighs and rolls his eyes. He starts to dig into his pockets.

Croft looks at the assembled group. Both Adis and Bozo are looking at he and the captain as if they had each grown a second head.

"What?" Sloane's eyes narrow as she looks at the clones and the Thlothian. "Adis. What the hell is going on, here?"she says.

"Uhh, nothing Captain. I think that the little clone has something for the Commander."

Bozo starts as the scrutiny of Croft and Sloane lock on him.

"Message from somebody called the Dragon on Corellia, sir," the comm/tech says, handing the datapad to the Jedi.

A pained expression comes over Croft's face. "Keep an eye out for orders, Bozo. Captain, I think that this might be a good time to recall the crew, if Admiral Yularen's call is anything to judge by. Plus this."

Sloane nods. "So who is this 'Dragon' person?" she asks.

"A colossal pain in my ass," Croft replies. "Go ahead and contact him, Bozo. I'll take it in my quarters. Captain, you might want to be in on this call."

As they turn and leave the bridges, the smirks of the two clones and Adis follow them.

XXXXX

Croft walks into the cabin. As he turns to activate the comm, Sloane grabs him and pulls him to her. Her mouth melds with his. As they come up for air, she rests her forehead on his.

They break apart as Croft activates the comm.

Instead of the anticipated craggy visage of Draq' Bel Iblis, the spymaster of Corellia, a beautiful pair of laughing eyes and a bright smile looks out of the holo. The holo mutes the brilliant red of the woman's skin.

Croft's eyes widen. Jana Sloane's narrow, as she sees the expression on both faces.

"Hey, handsome. What's her name?"

Croft starts as he knows that Jana is outside of the pickup. "Huh?"

"You didn't respond to our or the Jedi's call. There was probably a pretty face involved. Come on. I want measurements and details."

Croft doesn't respond. Jana smirks and steps into the pickup. "Her name is Captain Sloane, sweetie. What's he to you?"

Dani Faygan, the finest officer in CorSec, doesn't miss a beat. Her smile stays at its brightest. "Hello, beautiful. I'm Dani. I work with the boy. So, how was he?"

Jana's visage instantly relaxes at Dani's cheerful manner. "Oh, I've had better. He kept me mildly interested."

"Sounds about right. I've tried to teach him everything I know. Some people just can't be taught."

"Don't I know it."

They both ignore Croft's aggrieved expression. "Hey, Captain, if you are ever on Corellia, maybe we can commiserate over lunch. I'd be glad to show you around."

"I'd like that, Dani. We'll talk. He does need some help."

"I'm sitting right here," Croft says darkly.

"Yeah, we know, sweetie. Captain," Dani says, "you might want to stick around for this. Formal orders will be coming through your channels, but I wanted to give you a heads up."

"Quick explanation, Captain..."

"Please, Dani, call me Jana."

"Thank you, Jana. The reason that someone from Corellia is calling is that the Jedi and Corellian Security have reached an informal agreement to share intelligence and operations, even though Corellia is neutral. We are reading you in, as Croft and I are the two contacts for this--collaboration, if you will."

Jana is silent for a moment as she digests this. "Is this legal?"

"You're right to ask, Jana. The Senate does not require strict operational knowledge. There is only one Senator who is privy to this; that's Bail Organa. He's the chair of the security committee. My boss, the grumpy Dragon, who Taliesin is very familiar with has been given ex-officio status on COMPOR, which oversees intel for the military. So, you are one of less than a dozen people who know about this arrangement."

Jana nods slowly. "Okay. I trust Croft. He trusts you. Seeing as how we might be doing some 'note comparing' sometime," at this they both share a smirk, "I guess I will, too, Dani."

Croft rolls his eyes.

"Dani, I know that you didn't call on a scrambled frequency to bust my balls or for comm sex. Is there a point to this conversation?" Croft says.

"Ooohh. Touchy," Dani says. She grows serious. "This is ultra secret stuff. Corellia has an agent on Raxus at a fairly high level. "This agent, code-named Lodestone, has learned that the Geonosian weapons builders put some fairly high level weapons blueprints on a datacard."

Dani pauses for a second. "This datacard contains designs for what his sources call 'the ultimate weapon.'

"We know that the information left Geonosis sometime during the attack. Clone intelligence told the Jedi that a high-level Geonosian warrior is unaccounted for."

"There has been increase in Separatist chatter about a planet called Christophsis."

Sloane makes a sound. Dani waits for her to speak before continuing. "That is a very resource-rich planet. Would be a huge prize."

"You're not wrong. The GAR is spread too thin for the next month or so to put a presence there. It's possible that the Seppies may be beating us to the punch."

"Why would they send a database to some place where the shit will soon hit the fan?" Croft asks.

"There may be some other stuff on there, to bury the data. Or this warrior has such a reputation that they might put it where they think it would be safe."

"So what is our part in this?"

"Go there and get the database. Might be an added bonus if this warrior has an accidental overdose of laser bolts. Even more added bonus if you uncover any Seppie presence on Christophsis," Dani says.

Jana picks up a datapad and punches some information into it. "This is going to be a helluva run. Sixty to seventy hours in hyperspace. This going to burn a lot of fuel."

"Corellia is going to arrange a fuel rendezvous with you at about the halfway point."

Jana nods. Croft worries his lip. "You said the Republic is stretched too thin. What if we get in a jam?"

Dani looks down. Her purple eyes speak volumes when she looks back up. "You'll have to un-jam it, yourself, dear."

"As usual."

"I'm very serious. Apparently your command doesn't want any Republic forces there until there is a credible threat to the planet from the Separatists."

"Would two dozen dead clones, ship's company and a Jedi be enough?"

"Probably."

"Marvelous."

Dani's eyes are filled with an unfathomable sadness. "Jana, could you excuse Croft for a moment? I have a message to pass on."

"No problem, Dani. I look forward to meeting you, someday."

"Me, too, dear."

Sloane gives Croft a quick kiss. Dani smiles at the marking of the territory.

"What's up, Dani?"

The Constable tries to find words. She finally gives up and asks the question. "Will you see Ti before you leave?" Croft's eyes soften at the incredible sadness in her voice.

"I should. She might be the one to give me the official word on this job."

"Will you tell her something for me?"

Croft nods. Dani pauses, as if gathering her courage. "Say it, Dani. As long as I don't have to give her a long description of what you intend to do to her when you next see her."

"Nothing like that. Tell her that I miss her terribly and I wish that I could be with her."

She gives a crooked smile, the right side of her lip lifting up. "Fairly tame, Taliesin, as you can see."

Croft smiles at her. His heart opening to the raw emotion. "I will tell her, Dani. I am quite sure that she misses you, too."

"I don't know, babe. All that attachment stuff."

"All that attachment stuff, darlin,' may go out the door with this war."

The young Zeltron nods. "I miss you, too, Taliesin. Draq' does as well. Please be careful and bring yourself home."

"You know me, Dani. I'll always come back."

XXXXX

Croft stands next to Drop in the docking bay outside of the _Bucket_. He smiles as he feels the powerful presence, as well as one other. Presences.

The other presence feels incredibly broken. Broken, but steady.

He turns and bows to his Master. "Hello, Taliesin," she says, her teacher's smile on her face.

"Hello, Master. It is so good to see you."

"I wish it were under better circumstances," Ti says.

Croft's expression grows serious. His brows knit together. "I take it you have orders for me."

"Yes, Tal, I do. I am assuming that a little crimson bird let you know."

Croft smiles. "Yes, she did. She has a message for you that I will give to you in a moment."

Ti's smile is beatific. She turns to the young woman standing next to her. Elle Jaquindo paints a smile on her face. She bows to Taliesin. "Good morning, Padawan Croft," she says.

Croft doesn't bow. He folds her into his arms and holds her tightly. She puts her face against his chest.

Drop's eyebrows raise. "Whatever you need, Elle. Say the word," Tal says to her hair.

"I need to have our friends back, Tal. He releases her and looks down. "I know. Me too."

Ti gives them a moment. Both of their eyes well. Both Ti and Drop look into each other's eyes in a shared look of concern.

As Tal and Elle break apart. Ti looks at both of them. "Tal, Elle will be assigned to your ship for the time being. She will be working on healing, as well as seeing what she can do with one arm."

Croft and Drop look at one another. "Master, with all due respect, don't you think that this is a bad time for us to take on a passenger?"

"She won't be a passenger. Your Captain has been asking for a replace her Executive Officer for some time. Elle is qualified; she spent time on a Judicial cruiser learning to be and qualifying as a watch stander. That was her last assignment before taking over from you as Clawmouse Clan master."

"That could be a problem. The captain is relatively low-ranked. Elle would technically outrank her."

Elle shakes her head. "I am willing to do whatever I need to get into the fight."

"Also, I have listened to some of your ideas on the Force and lightsaber defense - She and I think that you would be a major help to her healing."

Croft looks at Elle. "Elle, are you sure about this?

She hesitates, but then looks at him squarely. "I know I have not always been the best friend to you; that I have hurt a number of people. I probably don't deserve it, but I am asking for your help, Tal."

"Okay, Elle. We'll give it a try."

Master Ti nods. "Sergeant Drop, if you remember, we discussed the possibility of you assisting with Elle's training."

"Yes, General. I am always happy to have another reckless Jedi to look after."

Croft, Ti, and Drop share a smile. After a moment, Elle joins them. "Drop, do you think that you could take Padawan Jaquindo around and show her to some quarters?"

"Yes sir. I am assuming that you will be smoothing the way with Captain Sloane? Seeing that you have an in?"

He maintains a straight face as he says it. Ti picks up on Croft's uncomfortable expression and smirks.

Drop turns to Ti and salutes her. "It is always a pleasure to see you, General. May the Force be with you," he says.

Ti takes his hand in hers. "Take care, Sergeant. May the Force be with you. Please," as her expression grows serious, "look after my children."

He nods. "I will, Master. I still owe you that drink."

"I will collect if you ever visit Kamino."

Drop turns. "Come on, Lucky. Let's find you a place to lay your head."

Ti watches them go. "Kamino?" Croft asks.

"I am being assigned to oversee the training of the clones. Of the Vod'e. They have taken my battalion from me."

"Master, I realize that you want to be in the thick of everything, but I think that this is an incredible idea. I can't wait to get a company of clones trained by you."

Ti smiles. "I can't wait to see what you will do with your own battalion, Tal. I see the respect that you have gained from your commandos in such a short time. I am so proud of you, my child."

She looks down. "I don't know when I will see you again. But know this. You are everything to me, as a teacher and as a Master."

She raises his chin to look at her. His eyes are tearing, a mirror of her own welling eyes.

She brings him close to her. She kisses him on the forehead and ruffles his shaggy hair. She runs her hand down his Padawan braid. "I hope that can sever this in a couple of months." She holds him tight against her chest.

Ti brings him to arm's length, drinking in his face. "I know it will do me no good to tell you to be careful, so I'll just say - May the Force be with you, my young Padawan."

He bows to her. "May the Force be with you, my Master."

He smiles. "I'm supposed to give you a message from someone on Corellia."

Her eyes smile. "She says that she misses you and wishes she could see you, but understands that you can't."

Ti nods. It is time for her eyes to look at the deck. Croft smiles as she turns a deeper red. "Is this where I give you the 'talk' Master?"

"Insolent pup. I am not the one plowing through half of the Republic navy."

They laugh together. Ti shakes her head. "I need to let you go, Tal. We both have work to do."

They embrace again. "I love you, my son."

"I love you, my mother-of-the-Hunt."

XXXXX

Elle's eyes fill as she watches them turn from each other. Drop gives her the moment. He thinks of goodbyes--the ones that have been said and the ones that will be said.

Some permanent.

He motions for the Padawan. They unconsciously fall in step as they go deeper into the ship. "We've got sixty hours of hyperspace, Commander...."

"Please, Sergeant. I am not a Commander--just an apprentice."

"Ma'am, you are a Jedi. Jedi are either Commanders or Generals. No in between."

Elle wisely decides not to argue with him.

"As I was saying, we have sixty hours of hyperspace. I know the Commander will be wanting to put some of that to good use, as far as you go. He has some wild-ass ideas with the lightsaber and the Force and some such nonsense. I may want to try to see if I can incorporate that with some hand to hand."

"Sergeant..."

"Call me Drop, Lucky."

Elle nods, but doesn't blink at her apparent new nickname. "Please don't feel that you have to go easy on my because of this - she gestures with her left elbow."

"Girl, I have never been accused of going easy on anyone. You ain't going to be my first."

His expression changes. A gleam appears in his eyes. "So. You used to fuck Croft, I hear?"

Elle's eyes flash. She remembers herself and calms. _There is no passion, only serenity._ She sees his eyes widen slightly. Elle realizes that she must have said it aloud.

"So, is it true?" Drop asks.

"What's that, Drop?" she asks innocently.

"That you can churn butter with a toothpick?"

"Why, do you want to give him a ride yourself?"

Drop nods and smiles. "Good. There is someone in there. Not just an empty shell. Oh, by the way, I like the old code better"

"What?"

"There is passion, yet serenity."

"How do you know the Code? Especially the old one?

"I have read a book. My lips didn't even get tired."

As they turn to the living spaces; Elle is laughing for the first time in what feels like years.

XXXXX

Dagul the Unresurrected looks out at the star field of the Geonosian armed freighter. His back crest - easily recognizable for its size and honed keenness flexes as he thinks about killing Jedi.

He has just received word that the false Republic is sending a Jedi and small force of clones to capture the tactical database he carries with him.

Good, he thinks. Let them come. Their bodies will be left on this blue, crystalline world.

The tactical droid approaches him. The droid has fortunately learned not to come close to his crest.

The hastily repaired hole in his sternum has shown him the folly of such.

"What?" the warrior says in his clicking language.

"Our warriors on Geonosis have just signaled. The Republic warship has departed the surface and jumped away."

Dagul the Unresurrected nods.

 _Soon_.


	11. Close Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ancient History
> 
> Adam, a brown old vulture in the rain,  
> Shivered below his wind-whipped olive-trees;  
> Huddling sharp chin on scarred and scraggy knees,  
> He moaned and mumbled to his darkening brain;  
> ‘He was the grandest of them all was Cain!  
> ‘A lion laired in the hills, that none could tire:  
> ‘Swift as a stag: a stallion of the plain,  
> ‘Hungry and fierce with deeds of huge desire.’ 
> 
> Grimly he thought of Abel, soft and fair  
> A lover with disaster in his face,  
> And scarlet blossom twisted in bright hair.  
> ‘Afraid to fight; was murder more disgrace?’  
> ‘God always hated Cain’ He bowed his head  
> The gaunt wild man whose lovely sons were dead. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

Elle Jaquindo wipes the sweat from her eyes with what remains of her left arm. She looks at Taliesin Croft, as he moves from foot-to-foot, his lightsaber held out. Elle holds her saber in guard and returns her left elbow to a downward pointing position.

The giant Null stands against the wall. Watching. Analyzing. Encouraging.

This had been their routine, their rhythm over the thirty hours that they had been in hyperspace. _Not just fighting._

Jaquindo and Croft had spent a considerable amount of time meditating; attempting to establish this rhythm. Then lightsaber forms. Attempting to bring muscle memory to the surface. To meld it to the young Chalactan's new reality.

Attempting to connect to the Force; to make up for that missing reality.

At first, Elle had struggled to find that rhythm. Drop smiles. You didn't have to connect to the Force to sense the Padawan's frustration and pain.

Croft had surprised him. In the short time that Drop had known him, he had sensed a coiled energy--of wanting to do things. A tiny bit of impatience. Never shown to his men; not after that first little heart-to-heart with him.

But in dealing with the broken young apprentice, Croft had shown nothing but serene patience. Plenty of snark and sarcasm, but gentle, never cruel.

Drop smiles. He could see the influence of a serene, but passionate Togruta, whose love and humor when around her challenging Padawan was apparent to all who truly looked beyond the serenity.

_Really goes against the type of the thinks-with-his-lightsaber Corellian. Deeper than you look, little Commander._

Sometime around the twentieth hour in hyperspace, the rhythm had clicked. After the tutelage and encouragement of Croft and Drop, Elle had changed. Something had left her. There were still the tears, the pain, but she had begun to fight her demons.

Croft had noticed it as well. Drop had seen him standing against the wall in the makeshift training room after Elle had gone to rest--something both of them had insisted on. Croft's head had rested against the wall.

Drop had left him there, as the emotions flowed from the young Padawan. _Relief. Joy. Pain._

Croft feints with his lightsaber at Elle's exposed side. Elle immediately shifts her body and her saber left, but follows through with a shift back to to block his true swing. She follows through with a thrust to his chest and a counter swing on his saber hand. Croft avoids it and swings toward the weak side of her head. She sweeps under the blade, but loses her balance. She instinctively throws her left arm out and falls on the still-healing stump. Croft touches her shoulder with the powered-down blade.

_Good. He is not going easy on her._ Drop thinks. It's not easy for him though. Drop can see the pain and sympathy sweep over the young Commander's face.

Drop had taken him aside before Elle had arrived. "You cannot go easy on her, Tal. She is hurting, but you need to harden yourself. The Seppies or whoever she is facing will not take it easy on her. No matter how much pain she is in, you have to keep pushing."

The hardness was paying off. The tears are flowing, but where earlier Elle would slowly get up from a fall, she had jumped up with her saber pointing in guard position.

She was swaying on her feet. A meaty hand touches her shoulder. "Come on, little Lucky. Let's take a break. She shakes her head. "I can keep going, Sergeant. I am not a child."

"No, you are not, Lucky. But Croft needs a break. You're kicking his ass. He's dragging. He is so worn out that he isn't checking your ass out after every move."

Elle laughs gently. Croft rolls his eyes. "Why does everybody think that I am perpetually horny?"

A dry voice intrudes into his thoughts. _Let's see - between the Padawans of your age group, Corellian Security, and now the Republic Navy... Shall I go on, my young Padawan?_

He doesn't respond. Instead, he says to Elle, "You're doing great, Elle. You threw your arm out to maintain balance. You just need to have the Force ready to follow through with what we talked about."

He puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her close. She gives him a gentle smile. Her smile grows as Drop brings her a full bottle of water. She puts her hand over Croft's, but moves it to the clone.

She takes the water bottle. "You need to drain that, then fill it again and drain it," Drop says.

"Where's mine?" Croft asks.

"You can get your own, _al'verd'ika_. Our student comes first."

Croft nods approvingly. He walks over to the cooler. Drop follows him. "I think she needs to take about an hour off. Her stump is bleeding a bit from the two falls," the clone says.

"What then?" Croft asks.

"Maybe some more _jetti_ navel-gazing, then I'll take over. "While I am doing that, you can figure out how the hell we are going to find that damn doo-dad we are looking for."

"Okay Sarn't. Sounds like a plan."

" _Jetti'ka_! Lucky! Come here, darlin'," the Null yells.

"Not your 'darlin', Drop," she says. He ignores her response. "Take an hour. Go do whatever it is you want to do. Be back here in an hour for some meditation. Then you're mine."

"Another thing. Find some proper exercise gear. Get out of those robes."

"Very well, Drop."

She nods to Croft and turns to go.

"What do you think?" Croft asks.

Drop is silent for a moment. "She is moving forward, but she still has a long way to go before she is a hundred percent." He looks at the Jedi. "What about the Force shit?"

Croft purses his lips. "Her Force signature still shows a great deal of pain. Of loss. Not just of her arm, but of her entire being." He smiles. "She is bouncing back, though. She is calm where there was anger."

His smile grows wider. "Of course, her new Captain probably has something to do with it as well. I have it on good authority that she is driving Elle just as hard, but with a great deal of patience to come up to Jana's standards as XO."

Drop smirks. "Guess you ain't getting your pipes cleaned as much, there, Commander."

"I am all about self-sacrifice in a noble cause, Sergeant."

"More like self-abuse."

"That too."

Elle Jaquindo can hear their easy laughter in the passageway as she leaves. She smiles warmly as she thinks about her teachers.

XXXXX

Elle walks onto the bridge. The watch officer stands up. She motions him to sit. She finds a vacant station and sits down with her datapad. She has forty-five minutes after her shower to do more familiarization with the ship's systems.

Jana Sloane walks onto the bridge, dressed in her customary tank top and fatigue trousers for night.

"Captain on the Bridge."

"As you were. Good evening, XO."

"Good evening, Captain."

"Settling in, okay?"

"I am, Captain."

A smile splits the Captain's face. "Good. What's on your schedule?"

"Have a few minutes before meditation, then hand-to-hand. Don't know how long that will take."

"It will take no more than two hours. I want you to get a full night's sleep. Breakfast with me in the morning then you'll stand your first solo watch."

"You may have to fight Croft and Drop."

"Nope. Not really. In transit, my word is law. I will happily toss either or both of them out of the airlock if they give me or you any lip."

Elle smiles. "I don't want to cause any trouble, Captain. I just want to get back to the fight."

Jana nods. "I know, Elle. But give yourself time. Croft. Me. Drop. We want you to heal and be fully ready."

"I know, Captain. But I feel like..."

"You feel like your dead friends are demanding that you get back into the fight."

Elle's eyes seek the deck. Sloane walks over to the young Jedi. She turns away from the crew. She raises her shirt. An Aurabesh tattoo runs down her right side.

_Survivor_.

"I have friends who cried out for me to get back into the fight a few years back. I was in the Judicials; before the Navy was formed. I was a wet behind the ears cadet on anti-piracy ops in the Rim. Our cruiser - one just like this one was hit. Most of the crew was dead. I took a big piece of burning shrapnel to my side."

Elle listens, rapt.

"The pirates boarded us. I was the only one left. One of the pirates, a big Duros, pointed his blaster at my head. I was staring down the barrel. I saw his finger on the trigger tighten. I was preparing to feel the bolt in my head."

"I heard the shot. I closed my eyes. I heard a loud thump. I opened my eyes and saw the staring red eyes of the Duros. I look up. A beautiful Pantoran woman is kneeling beside me. She touches my face, then picks me up. She takes me to an escape pod and puts me in. My face is next to hers when she is carrying me. I notice that she doesn't have any of those tattoos on her face that I knew Pantorans have."

"She was my age or younger. She pulled the hair out of my eyes, closed the hatch, and ejects me."

"I got picked up a few hours later." She looks down at the tattoo. "I don't know what happened to that Pantoran girl. I know that it was not a popular move with the other pirates to kill that Duros. I hope that she survived."

"My friends did not. We never found their bodies.

Jana pauses, gathering herself. For the first time ever, Elle sees the powerful Captain struggle with her emotions.

"For awhile, I was reckless," she continues. "I nearly got other officers killed. Finally my captain gave me a choice. I could settle down or he would go ahead and kill me himself. He actually pulled his blaster and put it against my forehead."

"He said that this would be an easier way out and less risky to my comrades. I broke down. The captain dropped the blaster and took me in his arms. He said that I had to live for my friends, not die for them."

"I had a skin graft over my scars. I stopped on Ord Mantell and got this tattoo."

Elle is transfixed. She gently runs her hand over the words. The ink is cool to the touch.

"I don't fight for my dead friends. I fight to keep my new family on this ship alive. I fight for my little sister, who is still on that shithole of a planet that we come from. I fight for you, and Croft and those boys of his," she finishes.

The captain grows silent. Elle looks at her. "Speaking of Croft, Captain, do you have a problem that he and I have been involved?"

"No, Elle. I know that we are both getting what we need. I'm not marrying him."

"Don't worry. If you feel like you need something from him, take it. Live for today, Elle. Live for yourself, not the ghosts."

The Padawan blushes.

XXXXX

Drop wipes the sweat from his eyes, as he contemplates his opponent. There is a gash on her forehead that she ignores, as she circles him warily, her arms up in an easy guard.

A smile is plastered on her face.

Croft stands against the wall, watching the combatants. This would be their last sparring session before they got down to the business of Christophsis. Fifteen hours separated them from a possible hairy dose of combat.

Their first real combat together.

Between training with Elle, he and Drop had split training time with the commandos and the two officers. The commandos had shown their skill and competence in everything they had thrown at them.

Croft shakes his head. Wish I had the same confidence in the two officers. Alpha and Gregor were extremely competent, but there was something still there. A feeling of unwillingness to cooperate.

Drop felt it, as well. Drop was much less patient than Croft; was all for leaving at least one of them on the tanker that they had rendezvoused with.

Croft smiles as he thought about that rendezvous. He, Drop, and Sloane had watched as Elle had handled the difficult operation with quiet competence and confidence.

Sloane's eyes in particular had shown their pride.

Croft comes back to the fight. "Come on darlin', if you can throw me, you can have your way with me."

"Don't think that you could handle me, Sergeant," the Chalactan says with a smirk.

Drop feints toward her torso. Elle spins away and dives to his groin. Her remaining hand comes up between his legs.

She lifts, steadying his body with her injured arm.

And throws him over her shoulder.

Croft can feel her connection to the Force. He smiles as Drop comes sliding to his feet. Croft's smile turns to a smirk. Drop's eyes are closed.

"I may need a new First Sergeant," Croft drawls. "One that doesn't get his ass kicked by a mere slip of a girl."

"She cheated."

"Nope. She improvised." Croft holds out his hand and hauls his bruiser up effortlessly.

"I wouldn't say too much, Commander. I seem to recall a couple of extra lightsaber burns on the porcelain skin of your ass."

"You've been looking, again, haven't you?" Croft says easily.

Elle walks up to them. "When do I get to collect?"

"Huh?" Drops says.

"When do I get to take your virtue, Sergeant?"

Amazingly enough, the clone's tan skin turns a darker shade. He looks down.

Croft's eyes widen as he realizes that Drop is actually at a loss for words.

He starts to say something, but he stops as he sees Elle's face.

Suddenly Croft is at a loss for words, himself. "Gee, look at the time. I gotta run. Got a war to plan and all."

_Very smooth, my young Padawan._

**Approaching Christophsis**

Croft looks at his assembled troops in the outer hatch area. Even behind the expressionless buckets he can sense the coiled tension.

He looks at Drop, near his right side. He in turn is looking at his troopers.

Alpha has his bucket off. He looks at Croft without expression. His squad and element leaders are checking their men.

Gregor is behind Alpha's element, checking his men's armor and weapons. He can see the ARC Captain laughing and talking with his men.

Croft notes the difference.

They had decided that Alpha would lead the first squad, Able, as well as the HQ element. Gregor would lead Bravo and Chaos. The weapons and demo elements would be split between the two divisions. They would be put down at different areas and approach the target area.

_Target area. Nice term for something that we have no idea about._

Dani, through her agent, had provided signature frequencies for the datacard. Since it had such important information on it, the Seppies had tagged it. They would use a combination of that and bio-scans for the Geonosian to locate it.

Location was only the first step. Next they had to take the damned thing.

Drop catches his eye. He jerks his head toward the bridge.

Drop is silent for about ten seconds. "You know that this is a shit sandwich, right?" the clone says.

"Yeah. I know, Drop. But it has to be done."

"It's what we do, Tal," Drop replies. "Let's hope there ain't too many clankers around."

Croft walks onto the bridge. Drop stays outside. Croft notices Elle slip out of the door. She does not shirk from his look as she passes him.

Jana is looking at him as he walks up next to her. "Give them the moment, Tal."

He nods. She turns to the bosun's mate. "Don't know what we are getting into. Sound General Quarters."

Croft looks out at the twisting blue mass of hyperspace as the horn sounds. He closes his eyes and reaches out to the Force as the bosun's mate steadily intones over the loudspeaker.

_"General Quarters, General Quarters. All hands man your battle stations. Starboard side up and forward, port side down and aft. This not a drill. This is not a drill."_

Croft focuses on the Force and the raw emotions coming from the corridor. His expression is troubled as he does.

XXXXX

Drop stands there looking at the young woman. Her eyes are welling with tears as she looks up at him. He takes his bucket off and places it deliberately on the deck. He pulls his right glove off and sticks it in his belt.

He draws closer to her. His huge hand gently touches her cheek. The hand completely covers the side of her face as she looks into his amber eyes.

His thumb wipes the tears from her left eye. He draws her against him and pulls her into his arms.

His arms swallow her as she places her head against his chest. His hands stroke her dark hair as unfamiliar emotions threaten his hardened heart and soul. His lips touch her hair, as her sobs shake against his chest.

They pull apart as the warning horn bellows and the loudspeaker comes alive with the sound of threat. She straightens up; wipes her face on his armor. He smirks.

"Be careful, Drop. I don't know what the hell this is, but it feels right."

"I know, _jetti'ka_ ," he says, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and unsure.

They step apart as Drop picks up his _buy'ce_. He dons it and salutes her. "May the Force be with you, Commander."

"And with you, Sergeant."

She turns and walks onto the bridge. After a second of looking up at the overhead, he follows her.

XXXXX

Jana Sloane nods to the helm. The stars turn to their familiar pinpricks.

Alarms sound as they do. "Multiple contacts, Captain."

"What are they?"

"Serreno IDs. Armed freighter and a small warship. The freighter looks like it is towing something." The sensor operator pauses.

"Looks like a portable prefab base. They are starting descent."

She looks at the viewport. All together more than a match for us. She makes a decision.

"Follow them down. Ignore the corvette for now. Start bioscan of the surface for the bug. Communications--flash traffic to fleet. Let'em know what we have found."

"Elle, see if you can locate that signature that the Corellians gave us," she finishes. The Jedi nods and turns to her work.

The ship shakes as the corvette opens fire. The Separatist ship gives no indication of pursuit. "Don't engage, stay on the transport. Guns, range to the base?"

"Out of range, Skipper," Adis says.

"Contact, Captain," Elle says calmly. "Got a lock on the signal."

"Captain, bioscan indicates the bug. Right at the signal coordinates."

Jana smiles and looks at Croft and Drop. "You know, we could just bombard the shit out of that area. Solve a lot of problems."

"Yeah, I know. But this is the Republic Commandos. We apparently have to do things the hard way. Command wants the data. Although, I have no idea what the Republic needs with an 'ultimate weapon."

"Captain, may I have a tactical display of the area?"

Croft and Drop look at the display. The base and freighter move inexorably to the signal.

"There," Drop says. He points to a ridge line opposite of the signal location. "That small outcropping of rocks on the military crest of the slope. We can put a team there as an OP and put the rest of the force on the reverse slope. Maybe give the observation post two of the Z-6s for extra heavy firepower."

Croft nods. "Good eye, Drop. We can figure out our next move then."

"Just hope they don't have STAPS."

"Captain! Another corvette has jumped in."

"Shit. Well that changes things."

Croft makes a decision. "Captain, drop us off. Then get the hell out of here. Jump into communications range and wait for our signal."

"Tal, I..."

"Don't argue, Skipper. Give us ten hours, if you haven't heard from us, come in and blow the shit out of the area and get out."

Jana looks down. He touches her cheek. She looks up at him. "It's okay, Jana. It's what we were born to do."

She doesn't know if he is talking about his brothers or himself.

He notices that the crew have all become very intent on their work. Drop has turned his back.

He reaches out and draws her to him. Their lips meet. She pushes him away after a moment.

"Get the hell out of here, Croft."

"Remember, babe. Ten hours."

XXXXX

_Well, this ain't working out like I thought it would._

Croft looks out at a line of droids making their way up both sides of the slope. Within a half hour of landing, the battle droids began their inexorable march up the slope.

The Jedi sits with Able team in the OP.

Drop jumps down next to him from the crest. "Any ideas, Commander?"

"Fresh out." He looks over to the left. Something catches his eye. A silvery glint against the blue-toned ground.

"Over there, Drop. What do you see?"

Drop nods. "A way out. But we'll need cover to get to the stream."

"Well, this is where I earn my keep," Croft says.

"What do you mean, _al'verd'ika_?" Drop asks.

"I am going to do what I do. You take the men when I start doing it down that covered streambed. Find shelter and signal for an evac."

"Oh, fuck, no...." Drop starts. The other members of Able team sit up. "I didn't just go through all of that shit for the last four days trying to save one self-destructive Jedi, just to have you kill yourself, asshole."

"That's Commander Asshole to you, Sergeant Drop."

"No. I told you back on the rock that my job was to save _jetti_ from themselves. Still goes, Taliesin, my lad."

"Would you calm down? I am not trying to kill myself. I am providing a diversion. I can find you after I finish off that line of B1s down there."

"Oh, yeah, Croft, piece of cake. Just fifty B1s. Tell me, Commander, what are you going to do if B2s or worse yet, Droidekas show up."

Croft exhales in exasperation. "I don't know. I'll have at least thirty seconds to figure out a back-up plan."

"Come on Drop, every minute I have to argue with you is one less that we have to get you and your brothers - my brothers out of here safely."

Drop seethes, but he can see no other way out of the situation. The line of B1s is closing. He takes his bucket off and looks Croft square in the face.

"I expect your scrawny ass to be at the rendezvous. I don't want to have to tell the Captain that she is going to have to invest in batteries again."

"You really know how to break down an emotional situation to its component parts, there,  _Vod_."

"That's what being a Null is all about. Didn't they tell you?"

"Musta missed that in the 'care and feeding of Nulls' lecture," says Croft.

"Well, at least you don't have to burp us like you do Alphas or wipe our asses like you do ARCs."

As one, the entirety of Able team flips an ages-old Mando gesture to the Null. One that tells the receiver immediately what his IQ is in their estimation.

Drop takes his hand. "Try not to be too stupid." The other clones nod.

"You, too, Drop. I think that there is someone up there who would like to see you come back for her."

Drop looks at his hands. He looks up and nods. "I guess as her designated older brother, I get to threaten you on her behalf," Croft says, smiling.

"I will take care of her, big brother. Although it is kind of weird saying that, seeing that you..."

"Okaayy. Gotta run." He shrugs off the robe.

"When you get back, we are going to get you some Phase I of some kind," says the Null. "That shit can't be comfortable."

Croft closes his eyes in answer. He seems to draw into himself. His saber ignites, as if by itself.

He leaps.

 

 


	12. The Warrior Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Poet as Hero
> 
> You've heard me, scornful, harsh, and discontented,  
> Mocking and loathing War: you've asked me why  
> Of my old, silly sweetness I've repented--  
> My ecstasies changed to an ugly cry. 
> 
> You are aware that once I sought the Grail,  
> Riding in armour bright, serene and strong;  
> And it was told that through my infant wail  
> There rose immortal semblances of song. 
> 
> But now I've said good-bye to Galahad,  
> And am no more the knight of dreams and show:  
> For lust and senseless hatred make me glad,  
> And my killed friends are with me where I go.  
> Wound for red wound I burn to smite their wrongs;  
> And there is absolution in my songs. 
> 
> Siegfried Sassoon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter.
> 
> Apologies in advance for possibly improper conjugation of a fictional language for my own purposes.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Christophsis**

For about the fifteenth time in the last two minutes, Taliesin Croft deflects a blaster bolt back to the source. _Apparently there were more than fifty. Or at least they called some friends to the party._

Croft had struck hard and fast at the line of B1s. The usual loud consternation when Jedi attack was heard from the line, but to the mechanical credit, they didn't run.

_Kinda wished that they had._

To his credit, he hadn't gotten struck by anything. _Yet_.

He sees another line marching up behind this line. He sighs and pushes forward. He extends his left hand and sends half of his current opponent's line flying to meet their approaching comrades.

The mechanical complaining and whining increases in volume as the battledroid lines meet and crash together. Appendages, blasters, and torsos fly through the air.

The other half of the line stop as if hearing some unknown command. They immediately face right and march in line.

Right towards the hidden stream that his men were retreating to.

Croft curses. He turns toward the remainder of the front line of droids. His swings and Force throws increase.

There is silence as he realizes that he has no more opponents.

Until a loud double-whirring noise screams into his senses. He sees two wheels spinning towards him.

Wheels that suddenly unfold into standing, vaguely bug-shaped droids. Vague bug-shaped with double-mounted heavy blasters.

Both droidekas open up on him with their rapid-fire cannon. He jinks left and right and deflects the blasts back into them.

Right into their powerful ray-shields.

Croft again uses words that he had gotten in trouble for using in front of an impressionable young Togruta.

Or had been taught by that same impressionable young Togruta.

Croft tries to remember the tactical briefings on Seppie weapons. He smiles as he remembers a little snippet from the dry briefing.

He continues to advance and deflect bolts, including those deflected back to him. As he gets within three meters, he takes his jump. The lead destroyer continues to track him and fire at him. His saber deflects the bolts back at the shield.

As he reaches the apex of his jump and flip, he shifts his wrist imperceptibly.

The destroyer explodes as its last blast is deflected into its rear. Where the boring briefing book indicated the machine was most vulnerable.

The second destroyer is engulfed in the explosion of its fellow, as it got a little two aggressive in trying to pulverize Croft.

Croft lands. He looks at the two flaming piles. The burning smell is overpowering. He is perplexed as the smell suddenly resembles that of burning cloth and flesh.

He drops his saber as he realizes that one of the errant bolts had started a small fire on the shoulder of his tabard. He drops his lightsaber and fumbles for his belt and the offending garment. He is able to yank the garment off and extinguish the bit of fire that has attacked his tunic and under tunic.

And his skin.

After much swatting at his shoulder, he is able to free himself of the heat and small flame.

_Well, I am sure that both of my fans were impressed with that dance exhibition,_ he thinks as he examines the light burn.

As he gathers his belt and saber and turns to pursue the droid line that is threatening his men, he swears that he can hear the musical laughter of a Togruta huntress.

Possibly the musical laughter of two Togruta huntresses, one a miniature of the other.

XXXXX

Drop shoves the clones through the stream-bed, unconsciously counting them. As he pushes them to move faster, he hears the methodical clank of approaching battledroids. He grabs three clones and turns towards their rear. As they move towards the droids, they are brought up short by a harsh voice.

"Where the hell do you think you four are going?" Alpha says.

Drop turns and looks at the captain. "I am going to cover our retreat. We've got clankers coming on our ass from at least three directions. I'm taking these three sweethearts to give the column a better chance of escape."

Alpha shakes his head. "No, you are not. I want to preserve all of our firepower. I don't want to dilute it. If we keep moving, we can get away and turn and fight on ground of our choosing."

Drop takes a deep breath. "Captain. I can delay the clankers in order for you to get to that ground. Four of us won't make a shit of difference if the unit is hit."

"I said, no, Drop. You three get back in line."

The three ARC troopers look from Drop to Alpha. The Null stares at the clone officer, a deadly expression in his face. He jerks his head to the ARCs, sending them back to the line.

"Okay, Alpha. You take your playthings back. Try not to get them killed, just because they ain't your precious Alphas."

"What do you mean, Sergeant?" Alpha says, a dangerous sharpness to his voice.

"You been looking down on these ARCs since you were assigned here. Hell, you've been trying to look down on me, just that I see through your bullshit. Most of the Alphas are good troops, but they ain't any better than the rest of us at living and dying."

Alpha's eyes widen behind his T-visor. Drop figures that he is on a roll, so he plows ahead. "That asshole Stark damn near could've killed Bozo. Now, Bozo can piss me off every day of the week, but he is a good troop. He tries harder than any ten other troopers I know. He got saddled with that stupid-ass Siniteen name by that fuckwit Master Chief Bric, but he is learning and growing.

"Unlike a certain Alpha officer that I happen to be looking at right now. The same plank that he was when he came out of the fucking beaker."

Drop unslings his DC-15s. "I am going back to try to delay those tinnies. You have one or two choices. You can shoot me, or you can let me go. Either way, make your choice, Plank."

Alpha stares at the Null. He makes no move. "That's what I thought," Drops says.

"Drop," Alpha says. "This isn't over. You survive this and I am going to bust you. Or have you shot for desertion. Even the fact that you are that Jedi brat's pet musclehead won't save you from getting ended. I have friends, too."

A smile spreads across the huge clone's face. "Wow. I didn't think even you were that big of a nuna-shit, Seventeen. Guess I ain't as good of a judge of character as I think."

He suddenly grabs Alpha by the bottom of his helmet and pulls him into his own faceplate. "I look forward to continuing this later, Plank."

He releases Alpha and is gone.

Alpha turns back to the column. As he does, he hears blaster fire from ahead and to his side. He activates the HUD in the bucket. His tactical display shows hostile forces all around his small contingent. He runs towards the fight.

As he approaches, he can see several troopers down. His display shows them as all alive, but out of the fight.  
Looking ahead and to the sides, he sees a line of B2 SBDs advancing. He curses and makes a decision.

"All troopers," he says over the troop net. "Break up and scatter. We'll establish a rendezvous later. Everybody try to break out."

"This is Gregor. I concur. A couple of troopers and I have volunteered to stay with these wounded. We'll figure a way to break out if we can't fight them off."

Alpha closes his eyes and thinks of the Null's words. _They're just as good at living and dying as we are._

"Acknowledged, Gregor. Good luck. We'll do our best to come for you." He breaks the connection and begins to seek a way to break his brothers out.

XXXXX

Drop hears the transmission as well. He nods behind his bucket. _At least he can make a call. Wouldn't have thought it of him in the past._

He moves forward through a ravine. He sees a line of battledroids advancing toward the ravine. He pushes himself against the wall where he can see them.

They continue their march through the blue crystalline rocks towards his position.

A position that doesn't exactly have the best tactical advantage for him. Or any advantage.

His grip tightens on his rifle. _Well, might as well get this over with. Can't run without being spotted and cut down no matter which way I go. Guess I go right for them._

As he steels himself to charge, he thinks of a pair of navy blue eyes staring into his amber ones. Of a pair of soft lips touching his. He shakes his head. As he moves up to throw himself over the ravine wall, he hears a familiar hum. A hum and energy discharge sound that he has spent the last four days listening to and watching.

He chances a peak over the lip. Croft is performing a skilled dance, with the droids as a less than appreciative audience.

_Hard to appreciate something when you're flying in pieces._ For an instant, Drop admires the grace and speed that the young Corellian moves with. Drop had seen nothing like this in the training gym.

_You've been holding out. Here I thought you were good for nothing more than giving the Captain an occasional tune-up._

Croft suddenly comes to a stop, his lightsaber held out from his body, his body bent at the conclusion of the last spin. Two SBDs stand mute in front of him. A smile slowly comes over his face. He purses his lips.

And blows.

The two droids fall apart. Their bodies vivisected by a lightsaber.

The Corellian smile turns into an unabashed grin.

Drop grins under his bucket. _Kriffing show-off._

Croft starts as Drop pulls himself up; then relaxes.

"The rest....," Drop starts. "I heard," the Jedi says, pointing to a tiny earpiece.

"Wow, Croft. I am impressed. You actually remembered to tune into our freq."

The gesture that Croft gives to the Null is not one that a polished Jedi knight is usually known for.

"Well, now what, Commander?" Drop asks. The Jedi looks up to the sky. "I guess that we find where all of our brothers are. Pull their stones out of the fire. Save the day."

"Well, it is what we are good at," says the trooper.

They both swing around as noise trips their senses--hearing and Force. Two troopers stand there, their hands dropping to their knees as they pant.

"Hello, girls," Drop says. "Come here often?" The clones start and then relax.

Drop sighs as he recognizes the two. The banes of his existence, for different reasons.

"We sure are glad to see you, Sarge, Commander," Bozo says. "Oh, yeah Bozo? What have I told you about calling me 'Sarge?'

The other trooper, a slightly larger-that-Bozo model, says. "He may be, but I'm not."

"What happened, Captain Alpha?" Croft asks. "As expected, the clankers got Gregor, his two volunteers and our six wounded. They're alive; they managed to squawk 'captured' on the net, before the clankers killed their transmitters. Haven't heard a lot of blaster fire, so I am thinking that they didn't slaughter them."

"What about the others?"

Bozo shakes his head. "I keep getting one or two capture signals every few minutes. There are still about five besides us who have been captured."

_Well, that's half the command down,_ Croft thinks to himself.

"Bozo, text those five to find a place and whole up. We'll try to come up with a plan to get the captives out," Drop says.

"Now wait just a goddamned minute. Who left you in charge, Sergeant?" Alpha says angrily.

"Well somebody has to make a decision. We can't all stand around admiring ourselves with our thumbs up our ass."

"You might remember, Drop, that we have a mission to complete. Or did your feeble brain forget?" Alpha says, his teeth clenched.

The two troopers are suddenly toe-to-toe. Bozo watches them back and forth. "In case you haven't forgotten, those are all of our men out there. We do not leave brothers behind, Plank," Drop says.

"Yes, but the mission...." Drop snarls and starts to shove Alpha before he can finish.

Both clones find themselves on their asses, shoved away from each other. Bozo watches as Croft lowers his hands.

"Do you two simpletons remember that the Jedi--the Jedi who also happens to be your commander is standing right here?"

"Neither of these objectives are exclusive to one another. Bozo," he looks at the comm/tech, "send that text. The two of you, who are supposed to be super-special elite types, put those thick skulls together and find a rally point. Meanwhile, I'll put my meager Jedi brain power to finding out how we can salvage this clusterfuck."

At that moment, a screeching reverb plays across their comms. Bozo checks his instruments and says, "Commander, we are being contacted by the droid commander."

"This oughta be good," Croft says, "Bozo, put him through. Mask our position."

A holotransmission comes from Bozo's outstretched hand. A tactical droid stands next to a Geonosian warrior. A clone kneels with his hands bound behind his back, clad only in his body stocking.

"That's Peck, Commander."

The three watch as the Geonosian begins to speak in his clicking language. The tactical droid begins to translate.

"Greetings spawn of the false Republic. I am Dagul the Unresurrected, Commander of the First Rank in the Geonosian Army of Archduke Poggle the Lesser, Protector of the Queen and Hive. I hold many of your vanquished drones."

The droid pauses to catch up to the Unresurrected. "I know that there is one of those wizards known as Jedi - followers of a corrupt and obsolete religion among you. I wish to test my superior skill against the wizard. I know that this particular wizard is only a larva, that his skills may not be worth my effort, but I will give the larva a fighting chance."

All three clones are snickering. They pull straight faces as the larva in question glares at them.

"This one," the droid says, pointing to Peck, "will serve as your incentive to come and face me. I know that you all have false senses of your drones' worth, so this weakness will be exploited."

The Geonosian spins his staff and drives the blade in Peck's back. His scream of pain is echoed by four screams of anger.

"I have made a study of your puny anatomy. When I withdraw this blade, your drone will die an agonizing death in ten minutes. He will drown in his own fluids. A balm on this blade keeps him from further bleeding. But when I withdraw it, he will die."

Dagul disconnects the blade from the staff. He swings it over his back and hooks the staff into another blade. He brings it out and holds it upright.

"Wizard, if you are not here in one hour, I will withdraw the blade. Come alone and come prepared to die."

"Don't listen to him, sir. I am dead already. Get...." Peck's words are cut off by a scream, as the Geonosian jams the butt end of his weapon into the medic. Energy flares, as Peck collapses.

"After this one expires, larva, I will continue down the line until your dreams are haunted by the scenes of your drones drowning in their own fluids."

"The one hour starts now, wizard."

The holocomm ends. All four men are silent.

Croft pulls his lightsaber and checks it. He closes his eyes. The clones can tell he is touching the magic.

"Where do you think you are going, junior?" Drop says with narrowed eyes.

"I'm going to persuade him to give our boys up."

"So, Commander Larva, you're just going to go in there, dance a few moves with your glowstick, and impress him into giving up our lads?" Drop asks.

"Something like that, yes," the Jedi says.

"You do remember those reports from the arena that these insects were particularly hard to kill, right?" Alpha says. Drop raises his eyebrows in surprise. "As much as I don't want to admit, Seventeen is right. According to Elle, one of those flyers did for your friend Ven with one of those blades. She said that the staves were resistant to lightsabers with electrostaff capabilities."

"Guess, I better be careful," Croft says. "Look. I am the only wizard here. I am not going to stand by and let my brothers die without a fight."

"In case you missed it, Commander," Alpha-17 says, "all of us were bred to die for our Jedi, not the other way around."  
Bozo and Drop nod in agreement.

"I actually don't give two shits about what the longnecks said they bred you for. I will not let you sell yourselves cheap, not while there is breath or Force power in my body."

"Besides, y'all ain't going to be just sitting here holding hands and polishing your armor. I am counting on the three of you to rally our other brothers and get the prisoners free while I keep Chuckles there occupied."

Drop smirks. "Yeah, he'll certainly be occupied by you hitting his blade with various parts of your anatomy."

"You know, I have fought a few lightsaber duels, guys. I'm not going to just run around."

Drop looks down. "I know, Taliesin. I just don't want you to sell yourself cheaply, either."

"I won't, Drop."

"I need to go. Bozo," he says, "contact the _Bucket_. Tell them to come up with a plan to get us out of here."

"Yes, sir."

Alpha looks at the Jedi. He slowly holds his hand out. Croft shakes it. He repeats the gesture with Bozo.

Drop looks at him, his eyes thoughtful. He turns away.

"Commander," Bozo says, "when this is all over, we need to find you a name."

"Thought I had one, Bozo."

"One that we give you. Just like all of these brothers."

Croft looks away, overcome. "We'll see, Bozo."

XXXXX

**Republic Frigate 667  
_Bucket_**

Jana Sloane reads the message board that Elle handed her. "Okay. Thoughts?"

Elle closes her eyes. "We are outmatched by two of those Serrenoan corvettes, right?"

"Yeah. In shields and in weapons."

"I am not sure that we are going to be able to come out of this, Padawan. We might be able to get to the surface and pull our boys out, but I don't have a lot of faith in able to jump out."

_I don't know if I can get you out, Taliesin,_ Elle thinks.

She tries not to think of another face.

She looks around the bridge. The crew are looking at Sloane and her expectantly. In spite of the interservice rivalry, the crew had no desire for those troopers to die, without being able to do something to try to save them.

Her eye catches a vacant station. A smile spreads across her face as she recognizes the panel.

"Why do we have a flight control station for fighters?" Elle asks.

Jana comes out of her reverie. "Huh? Oh. You might have noticed that our salon pod looks a little different. That's because it isn't one. It holds an Aethersprite - the older one with the built in astromech."

She smiles. "They figured that Croft might be able to use it."

She notices the wheels turning. "What?"

"I have an idea. You might not like it. It's a little reckless."

"Honey, I spend quite a bit of time sleeping with a Jedi. I'm not afraid of reckless."

She smirks at Elle's blush.

XXXXX

Dagul the Unresurrected hovers over the wounded drone. His mind travels back to the hive. He expects that the Archduke will reward him with a larger crest when the Jedi and clones are delivered to him.

He hears a murmur among the droids. A figure walks in among the droids. An ugly human dressed in dark blue. The symbol of one of the false Republic's corrupt wizards hangs from his belt. A braid that marks him as a larva of the wizards, hangs from his head amongst a wavy....forest.

Dagul looks at the wizard's face. The larva's mouth is quirked up at the sides. His ocular units are steady on the warrior.

The wizard says nothing as the weapon flies into his hand. He unsheathes the green blade.

Dagul feels his crest flex.

XXXXX

The droid commander of the Separatist corvette looks out into space. If he was a weak organic, he would be bored at the last ten hours on sentry duty. He had listened to the transmissions of the droids on the surface. He knew that the Republic frigate was somewhere out there.

Waiting to jump in.

_That would be an unfortunate mistake,_ he thinks.

He notices a flash of light. He turns to another droid. As he does, the ship shudders. A small fighter, centered in a hyperspace ring, materializes.

_No more than twelve meters from the corvette's bridge. Inside the shields._

Four bright specks of light detach from the streaking wedge.

The droid has no time to react as a bright burst of light claims his vision.

XXXXX

Elle Jaquindo fights the controls of the fighter with her one hand as it spirals towards the surface. She looks back and sees the corvette she had just hit spinning slowly away, a superheated mass of plasma where its bridge had been.

She pulls with all of her remaining physical strength on the stick. She feels her skin start to heat as the fighter begins to enter the atmosphere.

To her side and front, the ship's built in astromech fights with her, a serious of mournful beeps emanating from the intercom speaker.

As the fighter is seized by the planet's gravity, she reaches out to the Force.

XXXXX

Gregor watches as a the four droids pace back in forth on guard around them. He looks at Stooge. They are both watching. Counting the steps. Calculating their chances.

_Damned low._

Most of the prisoners are wounded in some form, their armor lies just outside the makeshift prison enclosure, where each clone had laid them neatly, along with their weapons when forced to.

He turns to Stooge. They communicate using a primitive tap code on each other's forearms.

_I don't think we have a chance, Vod,_ Gregor taps.

_Let's keep watching._

As they turn to the guards, they are startled to see two less. The other droids turn and notice. They start with alarm, as a very large trooper grabs the neck of one droid and gives a quick twist.

Two other troopers trip and other droid up and smash his head with the butts of their rifles. The smallest of the three clones pulls a datapad and holds it near the most intact droid. He manipulates the controls; then points it at the prison field.

It goes dim.

"C'mon," Gregor says quietly. "Grab your gear and the wounded."

He hobbles over to Seventeen and Drop. "Never thought I would be glad to see your ugly faces, boys." He shakes both their hands. Seventeen holds the grip a little longer as they nod.

"Feeling's mutual, little brother," Drop says. "Let's get out of here before we become permanent residents."

"Where are we headed?" Gregor asks as he dons his gear.

"Going to try to keep our Commander's balls from being bitten off by a bug."

XXXXX

Croft continues to swing his lightsaber at Dagul. The Geonosian continues to parry and swing. Croft is already bleeding on his torso from several small cuts inflicted by the blade.

_Hope it doesn't have anything weird on it._

The Geonosian flies up and attempts to land behind the Jedi. Croft leaps into the air to the same height and swings at the warrior's head. The warrior is caught off guard and barely parries. Croft twists around and manages to cut one of the warrior's wings off at the root.

A clicking scream is heard as the Geonosian plummets. Croft lands on his feet. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees blaster bolts intersect with the droids who had been standing around, watching the contest.

Croft is brought back to his own predicament as the Geonosian swings his blade.

The tip of the blade drags along the side of Croft's head just above the left ear. Pure fire erupts as blood spurts from the wound. He shakes his head and touches the wound. He feels the shallow, but bloody cut.

He renews his attack. He forces the Geonosian back with his repeated swings. The Geonosian continues to parry. Croft sees an opening and leaps.

At that precise moment, Dagul the Unresurrected regains his footing and swings his electrostaff. It connects with Croft's foot. It is just enough to change the direction of his twist.

He comes down. His world lights up.

XXXXX

Drop hears it first over the din of battle. A bloodcurdling scream in Croft's voice. He looks over and curses.

Croft has come down back-first on the back of the bug. The largest spike of the back-crest of the Geonosian protrudes from Croft's right shoulder. The Geonosian is jumping to and fro trying to shake the unwanted burden off. With each jump, Drop can see pain lance through the Jedi as his back rubs against the Geonosian.

Drop and several other troopers disengage and run towards the leaping warrior. Drop sees Croft close his eyes and center himself. His lightsaber flies into his hand from where it had fallen. His eyes open. Drop stops short as he sees the calmness in the green gaze.

Croft pushes up off the crest with his left hand behind him, against the bug's back. The Jedi closes his eyes - opens them. He swings the lightsaber behind him, close to his own back.

Dagul the Unresurrected screams again as all three blades of the crest are severed close to the warrior's back.

Croft collapses off of Dagul's back. The crest barb still lanced through his right shoulder.

Dagul runs as the clones race toward their Jedi. Croft is rising from his knees to his feet. Drop pulls up short.

He puts his arm under the Jedi's shoulder. "Nice horn, there _Vod_."

Croft turns and looks at Drop. The Null's eyes are unfocused. Alpha is limping and supporting Bozo.

Croft sees the hole in the Null's chest. He shoves Drop's arm from under his shoulder. "I can walk, dumbass. You're not going to be much longer," Croft says.

"It's just a scratch, _al'verd'ika_."

Drop looks at him. "We still have to find the doo-dad. Was it on that bug?"

Croft smirks. "Operative word is 'was', Drop." He holds up a small object on a lanyard in his left hand.

"How the hell...?"

"Comes from growing up with a professional pickpocket and street thief."

Drop laughs. "You never cease to scare the hell out of me, Croft," he says.

Another blaster bolt whistles by them. Another strikes Alpha. Drop shakes Croft off and grabs the Captain. Bozo slips to the ground as Alpha falls.

Croft looks at Drop, the Geonosian spike still absurdly sticking from his shoulder. Drop yells, "Go - get out of here. I'll grab them." Croft ignores him and runs toward the four B2s marching towards them. The other commandos open on them; the threat from the other droids already neutralized.

As Croft stops to face the new threat, he hears a screaming sound.

A screaming sound getting closer.

He looks up, just an Aethersprite fighter, trailing smoke, pancakes.

Right on top of the B2s.

He runs over to the fighter. He throws the canopy off as Elle Jaquindo's calm face rises out of the cockpit. She turns and raises the astromech from the fighter with a mystical gesture. Two clones grab it from her.

"Hey, Croft," she says, a smile flowing to her face. "It's good to see you. Nice horn."

XXXXX

"Move it, everybody!" Drop shouts, as more B1s come in. "Head north along the creek. Stay together!" He picks up Alpha and Bozo under each arm like so much grain and follows his own advice.

Another roaring sound is heard. A battered Republic cruiser careening in, a corvette pounding it from behind.

"Gregor," Croft shouts. "Get us an LZ set up. It'll be a hot one." Gregor nods and sets to work.

He notices that Elle has stopped and is speaking to the astromech head from her fighter. He is about to yell at her when he sees her fiddling with a datapad.

She looks up and points at the corvette.

His eyes widen as he sees a hyperspace ring spinning towards the corvette. Towards the lightly shielded side.

"Cover!" he screams. "Into the ravines. Everybody!"

He turns his face as the world explodes.

XXXXX

Croft sees Stooge standing over him. He examines himself. _Yeah. My new horn is still there. Fortunately I didn't land on it._

Stooge takes his bucket off. His lips are moving, but no sound comes out. Croft points to his ear. Stooge nods and pulls him to his feet. Another clone grabs his left shoulder and pulls him along.

He looks over and sees Drop with his twin burden.

Floating above the ground. Being pulled along by a slender, one-armed Padawan's mind.

Both the Padawan and the large clone are smiling at each other.

Croft's hearing comes back with a vengeance. Stooge says, "...the base is still here, Commander. What do you want to do with it?"

"Give the Captain my compliments; when we raise ship, hit it with the turrets."

"As you say, sir."

"Get Gregor over here."

"Already here, sir." Gregor looks at him. "What's the cost, Gregor for this little fucking doo-dad?"

Gregor smiles slowly. "Considering that Stooge here is the only relatively unwounded trooper here, not bad."

"You mean....?"

"Everybody is breathing, Tal."

Croft is overcome. He closes his eyes and lets his commandos take him home.

None of the troopers notice a small armed freighter rise. A freighter bearing the remnants of a once proud warrior, who will most likely no longer be known as the Unresurrected.

**Republic Frigate 667  
In transit to Coruscant**

Elle Jaquindo looks down at the sleeping clone's face. His face is still--much more still than it is in wakefulness. She runs her hands through his hair.

She looks over at her reflection in the mirror. Her face still bears the marks around her eyes and mouth of her pain and care, but there is calm there, as well.

She smiles as she sees the new jewel on her forehead. A jewel of enlightenment among her people. A simple stone that replaced one she had torn off in a fit of pique and pain.

A stone that had been handed to her almost shyly by the gruff, violent man lying in the bed under fingertips. A man who she now knew had his own pain to live with.

She continues to smile as she thinks of the other occupant of this cabin, the medic, Peck. He lies in the sickbay healing. She had visited him with Drop. Had seen the care for his cabin-mate beneath the gruff exterior.

She looks down at the bandaged soldier under her fingertips. As if by design, his eyes open. He smiles at her.

She makes a decision. She looks him in the eye and starts to remove her clothes. He looks at her with a slight smile.

When she is naked, she comes around to his uninjured side and climbs in the bed. He puts his arm around her. She reaches over and touches his lips gently and then lays her head back in the crook of his arm. She dims the light in the room and closes her own eyes.

After a while, his eyes close.

XXXXX

Taliesin Croft enters the large cargo hold. He is surprised to see all of the clones there, save Drop and Peck, the most seriously injured. His head and right shoulder are covered with bandages; skin pokes through the left side of his head where it was shaved to treat that long cut.

"Commander on Deck." He waves them down before they can rise.

The trooper sit in a semi-circle. A small circle of stones sits before them. In the center, a small metal flute with a sharpened end lies there.

The _bes'bev_. A weapon and a musical instrument. But a symbol, as well. A symbol that is held by the leader of song and stories - the bearer of history and song.

Croft walks over at Gord's invitation and sits. He sees Jana Sloane standing by the other hatch, watching, along with some of her crew. They are silent and respectful.

Seventeen nods at Gregor. He defers. Gregor stands and seizes the _bes'bev_. In a clear, steady voice, he begins to sing.

The anthem of his brothers.

_Vod'e An_

_Brothers All._

Gregor sings his verse. The other troopers join in the chorus. A new voice is heard. A clear baritone - the voice of a warrior between many worlds. A man who bears a name of the unwanted.

Never truly unwanted, but especially right now as he joins in the chorus.

The _bes'bev_ is passed among the gathering. Accompanied by the cry of 'Rise and Accept the ' _bev_.'

Until Croft realizes that Drop stands there, supported by Elle, holding the instrument to him.

Croft rises and stands in front of the assembly. He sees Jana smiling at him. In his mind, he sees a pair of Togruta, one tall and stately, the other small and full of energy and snark. Smiling at him. One through a bond between teacher and student, the other through the shared perils of a hunt on her world.

Croft starts to sing. As he sings the appointed verse, in _Mando'a_ fostered by long-ago lessons as a Jedi youngling, one trooper smiles suddenly as it hits him.

The gift of a name for his commander.

As he listens to the words of thanksgiving-of thanksgiving for a battle survived, he remembers a Mandalorian legend from the mists of history.

Of a warrior-poet. A storyteller and keeper of history through song and story.

The _Bessl'ar'a Verd_

The Warrior who Sings.

The Warrior-Bard.

 

 

 


	13. The True Mand'alor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamino. Caf, obfuscation, and more Croft relations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fenn Shy'sa is a character from the original Marvel comics. I am melding him with canon and some of the Mandalorian legends. I know that he may be the basis for the character of Fenn Rau, but I have chosen to have both characters. Because you can never have enough Fenns. I have also put the apostrophe mark in the middle for the same reason. You can never have too many in Mando'a.

**Kamino  
Two Months after Geonosis**

A storm rages. Both in skies above the shining city and the mind of the stately Jedi Master standing on the landing platform.

The storm in the skies is a natural phenomenon; blanketing the entire oceanic planet. The skies and oceans roil with winds and thunder; rain pelts the platform and the city.

The storm in Shaak Ti's mind is not a natural phenomenon.

That maelstrom can be attributed to one being.

Tora Ga. Scientific 'liaison' to the Jedi General in charge of training. Her shadow. Her nemesis in obfuscation and, as she suspected, outright lies.

 _An all around pain-in-the-ass,_ as her Padawan would put it.

A smile quirks one side of her mouth, as she allows thoughts of her apprentice to push the irritation from her mind. Her thoughts return to darker ones as she remembers sitting in a meeting with the Kaminoans shortly after her arrival.

A feeling of intense pain had shot through her mind. She feared that she was having another attack of the Curse, but she quickly realized the pain was coming through the training bond.

This pain was worse. She had excused herself and had gone to her quarters. She had reached out to Croft; had felt his presence, bowed but unbroken. She had felt a powerful sense of calm come over Taliesin, as he used the Force to overcome the pain of his wound. She had caught glimpses of the spike sticking out of his shoulder.

After he arrived back on Coruscant, he had commed her. He had downplayed the incident, dismissing it with his customary sarcasm and humor. He had even sent her the remnant of the Geonosian crest after it had been removed and cleaned as a macabre gift. She had, with her own sense of humor on display, had taken holos of the horn resting on her lightsaber rack and sent them to him.

She had immediately afterwards taken the crest as quickly as possible and cast it as far into the surging ocean as she could; tears flowing freely.

She, as was becoming standard in their last few communications, had sensed a powerful change and growth in the young Jedi. She was overcome by her pride in his newfound growth.

A small part of her mourned that she was only experiencing them from far away--not first-hand.

She shakes her head. _I guess this is what the Order means about attachment._

She closes her eyes and tries to center her roiling emotions. She rolls her shoulders, trying to ease the tightness. As she does, her skin chafes against her clothing, a product of the wet salt air of Kamino against the skin of a plains-born Togruta.  
_I enjoy the water as much as any huntress, but this is a bit much. At least the fact that everything is open air keeps me from the sores as yet._

Thankfully, as the only known treatment for the extreme is a hideously noxious cream made from rendered _Akar_ fat. She made a mental note to adjust the humidity in her quarters--her sanctuary--down another notch.

She sighs, as her thoughts of misery come back to a laughing young Zeltron. She and Dani had not been able to communicate since she left Coruscant. Draq' Bel Iblis had told the Jedi that Dani was on an extended assignment for CorSec in Hutt space.

She could sense Draq's worry even through the holocall.

Her reverie is broken by the sight and sound of a ship approaching for landing. She does not flinch as the ship, a small pursuit craft of Mandalorian design rotates its wings and engine housing and settles.

The ramp opens and a dozen Mandalorians in full _beskar'gam_ walk out. They form a semi-circle facing her. She calmly gazes at their expressionless T-visors.

It is the armored figure that walks down behind them that pulls her attention. A figure with his _buy'ce_ under his left arm. He pushes past the other Mandalorians, his right hand ungloved and stretched towards her.

She smiles and grasps his hand. Her eyes widen as she looks into his. His eyes crinkle with an easy smile, tempered with a watchfulness. She starts at the warm green eyes with tiny flecks of gold. The eyes flash with restrained laughter at her expression. An expression of recognition.

_I guess he gets the charm from both sides._

Fenn Shy'sa, the current True _Manda'lor_ of the traditional clans of that strife-torn planet, looks at her appraisingly as he releases her hand.

"Good mornin', Master Jedi. It is good to finally meet you. I am lookin' forward to workin' with you," Shy'sa says in an undefinable, thick accent.

"And to you, _Manda'lor_. Thank you for agreeing to travel and meet with me."

"I will introduce them later, but these are my best trainin' cadre members. They are at your service." He turns and at a silent signal, disperses the rank of armored warriors.

"So, tell me, Master _jetti_ ; these longnecks have been contractin' mercenaries, including some of our less desirable examples for years. Why did my Protectors get the call?"

"I made that call, _Manda'lor_. I wanted to have a cadre of trainers that I have a bit more oversight of."

Shy'sa nods. "I understand. Especially with the template that they used."

"What do you know of Jango Fett?" Ti asks.

Shy'sa grins hawkishly. "I know that he is a hard-headed, brutal killer of a bounty hunter, who claims to be _Mando'ade_. Which," he says as he looks Ti squarely in the eye, "is suspect."

Ti knows that he can see her raised brows, as his eyes grow hard. "He may be from Concord Dawn, but I also know he would betray anyone for a half-credit." His eyes soften. "He and my father once ran together. And no, before you ask, that is not a recommendation. My father was just as brutal and hard-headed. I will never know what my mother saw in him." He looks down, then raises his gaze to Ti, green meeting violet. "I wish that I had the balls to challenge him when he tossed Taliesin out. If my mother had been well, she would've never let him abandon a three-year old, just because of what he was born as."

They are both silent as Shy'sa returns from the past. He smiles, his face lighting up with warmth. "But enough about my family. You can see why I might consider Fett _darmanda._ He has even had the balls in the past to go so far as to claim that he is the true _Manda'lor_ of our traditions."

It is not lost on the Jedi that Shy'sa's accent has become more formal as their conversation moves forward. She thinks of the meaning of the _Mando'a_ word that he had used.

The state of being cast out, of not being _Mando'ade_.

"But, he is in the past. I am not exactly mourning the fact that your Master Windu separated that hard head from his body with a _jetti'kad_."

Ti nods and brings the conversation all the way back to the present. "I have made headway with the current cadre of trainers, headed by a Siniteen from Rattatak named Bric."

Shy'sa snorts. "I know him. Tell me, Master Ti, will Bric report to me, or will he and his team be separate?"

"As far as the Jedi Council is concerned, you will be in charge of training."

"Good. I want to make this succeed. This is a lucrative contract for my people. Ever since Duchess Satine and her pacifists have taken power, my people who hold to our traditions have become like wild _j'aig_ \- traveling the stars from _Manda'yaim_ , searching for identity." He uses the Mando word for his home.

His look softens. "I can't say much against the Duchess. Clan Shy'sa is of House Kryze - even though she tries to deny it at every turn."

"Tell, me _Manda'lor_ , does it bother you to be working with and for _jetti_?"

He nods approvingly at her accent. "No, Master. I know that our pasts are hard, but I am trying to build a bridge between the past and the future for my people. Besides," he says with a grin, "seeing as how my nephew is one, I don't see how I can have a problem."

Ti smiles. "I thought so. I see it in the eyes. I have recently met his Corellian side, as well. I have seen those eyes laughing at me for six years."

"Oh, so you know young Taliesin?"

"I should. He is my apprentice."

Shy'sa smiles and nods. His eyes take on a look that Ti has felt in her own heart when talking of her apprentice. "I have not seen him since I handed him over to Bel Iblis. He had eaten some kind of fruit and had shit all over my _beskar'gam_."

Ti laughs. "That sounds about right. He is still doing that figuratively, even at age twenty-one."

The Mandalorian laughs. His eyes grow sad. "I loved his mother, my older sister more than my very breath. I had grown to respect my new brother-in-law like no offworlder. He had become my brother."

His eyes brighten. " _Aliit ori'shya tal'din."_

Ti nods in recognition. "Family is more than blood," she says. Shy'sa smiles. "Well said, Master Ti. Since I have met you, I want to meet my nephew even more. If he is half the person that you are, he will be an incredible person."

Ti inclines her head in response. Shy'sa grows serious. "As much as I could talk about him all day; we have business to discuss. Let's go inside and talk about this mess."

"A very descriptive word, _Manda'lor_ "

"Please, call me Fenn."

XXXXX

Ti watches Fenn grit his teeth. This after only ten minutes in Tora Ga's presence.

She and Fenn sit around a table with Ga, the Siniteen Bric, and Fenn's taciturn second, Rau. The pilot had only introduced himself with that one, curt word. They listen as Ga outlines why the Mandalorians can't possibly have full access to the training scenarios.

Both Ti and the two Mandalorians hide their irritation behind sips of caf. The Jedi finds herself trading those looks with both of the Mandalorians.

Ti tries to tune in as Ga continues to drone in that placid, soft voice that all of the Kaminoans have about proprietary rights and scopes of work in the contracts.

"...and furthermore, Master Jedi, you contracted separately with these Mandalorians for training. We would have to renegotiate the contract in order to allow them full, unfettered access to the training simulacra.'

"Be that as it may, Dr. Ga, the Republic, through the auspices of the Jedi Council, is your sole client. Surely there can be flexibility in accommodating our wishes for additional training resources."

"We feel that the training resources that we have provided; as you have taken them on, are adequate."

_A bunch of mercenaries and ner'do'well thugs. - that is adequate? At least Bric, for all of his faults has a military pedigree._

At that moment, Master Chief Bric chooses to throw his two credits in. "If I were a lesser being, I would feel slighted by this addition. However, I am not, so I am glad to accept any help from the Mandos. They are good fighters and might be able to understand these clones better. Especially since the clones have already imprinted on a number of Mando traditions."

Ga stares at Bric, as if he had gone off script. Bric stares back. Shy'sa nods approvingly at the stubbornness. The Siniteen smirks back at him, rubbing his thumb and first two fingers together in a specific gesture.

The universal symbol for money. Fenn rolls his eyes. Rau's anger grows as his leader puts a calming hand on his armor.

Tora Ga listens to a whispered message from a minion. He looks at the group. "Perhaps we can table this discussion for after dinner. Right now, I would like to show our new partners a training demonstration."

Ti nods.

XXXXX

Ti and the new trainers stand on a balcony overlooking the training arena. Three squads of cadets prepare to enter the simulation. To the left of their balcony, a group of clone younglings stand, watching in awe.

Bric nods to the instructor at the control panel. "Begin simulation JTT4Y7 with three squads."

Alarms sound a warning as she sees the clones brace.

Simulated laser fire and stun bursts open up on the clones. They cover and move rapidly through the course.

Within five minutes, at least half of the clones are out of the course, lying stunned and immobile on the deck. The others are advancing. Both Mandalorians, Bric, and Ti nod approvingly at the teamwork shown by these advanced cadets.

Ti looks over at the younglings. The awe and excitement are evident as they watch.

Ti's head bursts with a warning from the Force. She starts and looks toward the arena. Both Mandalorians react to her expression, as does Bric.

As she opens her mouth to shout a warning, three simulated B2 battledroids stop in the middle of the floor and begin to vibrate.

"Everybody down," Ti yells. The words have scarcely left her mouth when the three faux-SBDs explode in a burst of light and sound.

Her world contracts as she falls to the deck. She realizes that Shy'sa is on top of her, she feels his pain, as something sharp and hot impacts the back of his beskar'gam.

The Master jumps to her feet. Cadets and parts of their bodies are strewn about the arena. Smoke and flame choke the air out of the room. She looks over at the balcony with the younglings. She sees the supports buckling. The younglings had taken cover quickly, but are wide-eyed in terror as the balcony totters. She sees them frantically trying to open the exit door.

She jumps to the arena, just as the the balcony starts to fall. She reaches out with the Force and slows the fall to the arena floor. The younglings are wide-eyed, but calm as it gently touches the floor.

She turns and quickly brings a wave of energy to suffocate the remaining fires. None of the clones on the floor are moving.

She sees four younglings run up to her. "What can we do to help, General?" the first one pipes in a higher pitched voice. "Get your fellow younglings out of here. There may be other devices, _adi'ika_."

The young clone nods and jerks his head towards the exit. The others follow. She looks and sees Rau and Shy'sa have followed her to the floor. Rau is limping from where he came down wrong and his alor has a piece of shrapnel sticking out of joint of his armor. Both have donned their helmets.

"General Ti, are you alright?" She turns and smiles at a familiar figure in forest green-trimmed armor.

"I am fine, Captain Pal. I want you to secure this area for investigation. Work with Mr. Shy'sa for the use of his instructors. No one goes in here except on my express authority."

Pal nods. "As you say, General Ti. There don't appear to be any survivors."

"I know, Pal. We will have to leave their bodies in place until I can get some sort of investigator in here."

"We do have access to crime scene droids. The can do the initial collection."

Ti nods. There is a commotion at the door, as Kaminoan technicians try to gain entry. Rau and Fenn draw weapons.

Pal stands next to them. Tora Ga walks into the room. "We are taking over this investigation, as it has occurred on Kaminoan sovereign territory."

"I take my orders from General Ti," Shy'sa says, pointing his Westar at Tora Ga's head.

Ga backs up. "I will lodge a strongly worded protest with the Council, General Ti."

"Do what you think that you must. I am collecting evidence; I will share it with you."

Ti doesn't think about how thin the ice is that she is walking on.

Ga turns away. Ti tries to suppress the urge to gloat at her small victory. Fenn walks over to her. "You handled that well, Master Ti," he says admiringly.

"Thank you," she says. "But I fear that we may lose in the long run. Worse yet, I fear that these men's memories will lose."

Shy'sa nods. "General, Shy'sa, I have something of interest," Rau says. "What is it, Fenn'ika?" Shy'sa asks.

"Bric found it actually," Rau says. The Siniteen nods. Ti can see his brain window shifting. "It is something I smell. A taggant for a specific type of explosive. One that is actually manufactured only on Corellia."

The _Mando'ade_  look at one another. Ti nods. "Bric, I know that you don't exactly work for me, but can you keep this to yourself and these two officers?"

"For the right price."

Rau makes a sound and punches the Rattataki on the shoulder. He stumbles; regains his feet.

"In the interests of working with my soon-to-be comrades, I'll give you my friends-and-family discount," he says, as he rubs his shoulder.

"Good move, brain-head," Shy'sa mutters.

Ti looks thoughtful. "Can you both record everything on your buckets?" she asks. They both smirk at her use of the soldiers' word.

"Yes, General. What are your thoughts?"

"I have good relations with the Corellians, especially Bel Iblis. Perhaps he can send someone to help."

"Give the old bastard my regards, Master," Shy'sa says.

"I will."

 


	14. The True Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Respite and a plan.

Shaak Ti enters her quarters. She tosses her datapad on the desk in frustration. She doesn't bother with the calm serenity that she is known for.

 _Known for by everyone who doesn't really know me_. _A certain obfuscatory Kaminoan scientist/ liaison may come to know the other part of my nature, as well._

Ga had continued, in that superior manner, had told Ti that he wanted all of the evidence from the explosion. "I am sure that the Master Jedi means well, but this is Kaminoan sovereign territory; I am sure you understand," the Kaminoan had said.

Ti had just as politely, if less condescendingly, refused. She knows it is only a matter of time before the Senate orders the Jedi Council to order their recalcitrant Master to comply.

She stops. She centers herself. She thinks of Croft's ancient, retro interpretation of the Jedi code, as he laughingly applies it to her. _There is passion, yet serenity, Master._

The thought of her Padawan causes another twinge of pain. She can feel the little burble in her Force sense from the training bond that she hopes will soon be severed with his Knighthood. She sends a prayer to the Huntress for his protection.

She shakes the morbid thoughts away. She moves into the bedroom. She catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror. To a casual observer, she is the serene picture of a Jedi Master. To her own eyes, she can see the marks of care and pain in the white markings around her eyes. There are two others who could probably tell, as well.

As she thinks this, she realizes that someone else is in the room. In the 'fresher. With the shower running. For a microsecond, she comes alert. She smiles and relaxes as her stomach flips with the familiar sensation of warmth and comfort.

One of those two in the universe who will be able to see these indicators.

She takes her comm off of her wrist and pushes a particular sequence. In the past months of her assignment with the clones, she has found a number of listening devices, both electronic and organic in her quarters. The techs at the Temple had downloaded a simple protocol to her comm to mask and scramble any type of device. She still thoroughly searches every evening when she comes in, but this provides extra security.

_If what I think is about to happen, happens in this room, it would not be good for a recording to be floating around out there._

She removes her weapons belt and her outer garment, leaving her clad in her singlet and skirt. She removes her boots, to feel as close to her world and its customs as possible. She starts to roll her shoulders to loosen the tightness. She has not had a flare of the incapacitating pain, since she left Coruscant.

The everyday pain greets her as she wakes and as she moves about her day.

She closes her eyes and thinks of that day; of her confession to Dani and her subsequent entreaty to not tell her Padawan. A slight smile quirks her lips as she thinks of how Dani had held her, supporting her through the attack.

Her smile widens as she hears the shower shut off in the 'fresher. She keeps her eyes closed to center herself. To lower her breathing and her heart rate.

The Force can do nothing about the warmth growing between her legs, as she remembers and anticipates.

Ti hears the door open and bare feet padding on the floor towards her. She feels the softness of a towel-clad body against her back and a pair of strong bare arms circling around her chest and middle. A pair of warm lips begins to play on her center lek.

Her breath catches. "One of the reasons that I came here, besides the fact that a grumpy Dragon told me to 'get my ass to Kamino; your girlfriend needs our help' was so I could get lost in your beautiful eyes, love. Here you are keeping them closed," Dani Faygan says. Ti can feel the smile against her lek.

She also feels the towel drop away against her back, leaving a pair of warm breasts pressing against her. Her lek unconsciously starts to move against them. She can feel the Zeltron's breath catch.

The Jedi turns and faces the young woman and takes her in her arms. Ti looks deeply into the eyes--those eyes morphing to the darkest purple and then black with raw passion and emotion. She gently touches Dani's lips with her own. Her tongue pushes its way into the officer's mouth and begins a dance--a dance that becomes a gentle battle.

They break away. "I've missed you so much, my love," Dani says. Ti is taken aback by the rawness of the words.

"I've missed you, too, beautiful girl," Ti says.

"Are you okay, Shaak?" Dani asks, her concern rolling off of her like a wave.

Ti smiles. _One of those two._

"I am much better right this moment, Dr. Faygan." She bends down and captures a nipple in her mouth. Her tongue circles the hard tip. Dani's head rocks back, as a sharp intake of breath from the unexpected sensation rocks her.

Ti does not let up, as she moves her attentions to the companion breast. She eventually spares Dani the torment, as soft sounds emanate from her. Dani gasps as the carnivore's teeth gently nips at her shoulders and throat. Very gently.

As her breathing stills, Dani laughs softly. "You really did miss me, didn't you?" She rests her head against the Togruta's chest. She moves her hand up and gently removes Ti's headdress. It is a testament to Ti's trust of her that she is allowed to touch the adornment, which represents an important part of the huntress' life.

She releases Ti and gently, almost reverently sets the headdress on the rack, above the place for Ti's lightsaber and hunting knife.

She turns back to Ti and takes a step back. She looks into her lover's eyes. She places her hands at the top of Ti's singlet and gently opens it. As more of Ti's skin is exposed, her breathing increases. The fastenings are opened and the garment is cast aside.

Dani embraces the Jedi. She is shorter, so she has to stretch. The skin-on-skin contact elicits a gasp from both women. For Ti, the contact also soothes some of the irritated skin from the salt air. For Dani, it is the ability to soothe this woman, to comfort, in addition to her own pleasure. Something that had been missing in her months in Hutt space. As she moves her mouth to Ti's collarbone and traces down to her breasts, she hears rustling from below as Ti removes her skirt and underwear in one swift movement and steps out of them.

Dani steps back to drink in the sight. Ti's only remaining adornment is the hunting knife strapped to her thigh. Her eyes widen, as the blade recalls the primal essence of the huntress that Ti emits, constantly. Dani kneels and gently removes the weapon. She smiles at Shaak's growl as her fingers touch her inner thigh to remove the sheathe. She reaches over and lays it on the rack.

Dani remains on her knees. She gently kisses and runs her tongue along those sensitive red thighs. She hears a laugh from above as she uses her own blunt teeth. She pauses--only for a moment--and dips her tongue into the wetness that she faces. An involuntary gasp, followed by a moan emanates from the Togruta's mouth. She feels a gentle pair of hands twining in her hair. Her eyes and her mouth focus on the white markings that surround Ti's core.

The tempo of her kisses and strokes increase, as do the tempo of Shaak's cries. Dani can feel the release building, both through contact and the resonance that is highly tuned to this particular being's signature.

Ti shudders as her release peaks. Dani stays with her as the tremors rock the huntress and the wetness flows. Ti pushes her away, just as she as rocked by a secondary explosion. She collapses to her own knees and pulls Dani into the tightest embrace that the young woman has ever experienced.

She feels tears on her shoulder as the huntress rests her face against her. Dani's own eyes tear as she rocks the older woman and caresses her lek. Their tears mix freely, as they drink in each other's emotions.

They rest like that for long moments. Finally, Ti rises and pulls Dani gently to her feet. Ti smiles at her and kisses the tears on the Zeltron's cheeks. Dani mirrors the movement on Ti's cheek

Without a word, Ti pulls Dani closer to her. Their legs entwine as the Toguta pulls the empath to straddle her lap. Ti traces her long fingers down Dani's front. As her hand reaches its destination, Ti feels the young woman's fingers and mouth moving over her lekku. As they rock together, each closer to their finish, their mingled cries rise in the small room.

Dani has a brief vision in her reeling mind of she and Ti leaping--leaping as she has seen Ti do before with the Force. Her mind comes undone. As if from a great distance, she sees Ti bring her hand to her own lips.

They both collapse into a heap on the floor of the room. Neither of them move as they fight to bring their breathing under control.

"Don't wanna move," Dani mutters, her eyes half-closed, from where her head is pillowed on the Togruta's chest.

She sees Ti weakly lift her hand. Two pillows and a blanket float as if on invisible wires and gently fall on them.

Dani does her part, spreading the blanket over them. As she does, she smirks. "Isn't that inappropriate use of the Force?"

She sees Ti's eyes open with a gleam already in them. Dani gasps as she feels a ghostly touch through the the hair between her legs. She can feel the sensations start to build again.

"No," Ti says, " _that's_  an inappropriate use of the Force."

Their laughter is mixed with other noises for a time in the night.

Dani collapses back against her lover. Their sweat-soaked bodies meld, as Ti pulls her close and caresses her face. She reaches down and kisses Dani gently. Their tastes mingle on their lips.

Dani starts to say something. Ti places her finger against her lips. "Shhh, love. We'll talk in the morning. Rest."

As Dani's eyes close, Ti remains awake as she contemplates the emotions that are rolling within her. Emotions and feelings that are forbidden to Jedi. More than just the comfort and passion that Dani claims she is offering.

Growing, complicated emotions that she feels from the Zeltron, as well.

Strictures that are meaning less and less to her as she sees the inferno engulf the Galaxy; as the Jedi are swept deeper into the conflict.

As Shaak drifts to sleep, her last thoughts betray those forbidden emotions, the product of this inferno, as well as the woman in her arms. _I love you, Daaineran Faygan._

The Zeltron's eyes open. She smiles. She whispers, "I love you too, Shaak Ti."

XXXXX

Shaak Ti comes awake slowly. Her time-sense tells her that she has slept later than she had intended. She smiles as she thinks about the previous night. Her core is still sensitive from the times that sleep had left both of them for the passion that their touches awakened in them.

The Jedi Master stretches as the sheet falls from her torso. At some point, they had gotten enough energy to move back to the bed from the floor.

Ti stands and completes her morning routine of stretches to keep herself moving throughout the day. She finds that she has to add some steps to her routine as her legs and thighs protest the added effort.

She starts to walk out into the sitting area, but stops as she hears voices. She smirks as she thinks of the cardiac issue she would give the owner of this particular voice if she walked naked into his and Dani's conversation.

_Especially since he has said on many occasions how 'hot' he thought that she was. Even when he was still a member of the Jedi Order._

She walks into the 'fresher and relieves her full bladder. She enters the shower and turns the hot water on full, allowing it to play over her shoulders and rear lek.

She decides to spare the little man's heart.

XXXXX

Phygus Baldrick sits at the table in the outer room staring at Dani Faygan in amusement. Dani is seated on the couch, her legs pulled up under her. She is clad in a pair of shorts and a tank top.

His smile turns warm as she sees how relaxed she is. He knew that the last few months had been hard on her, especially with the assignment to Hutt space. He had been her every-other-day a week contact. He had seen something several times on her face that she didn't usually see.

 _Fear_.

The last week before Draq' recalled her she had appeared on the holocomm with a bandage on her shoulder. She had downplayed it. The next day she didn't make the first of three check-ins. Phygus had been frantic.

Draq' had been close to sending the entire force of CorSec Rangers to that shithole of a backwater, when her ship signaled that she was coming home.

Phygus and Draq' had been there when the ramp lowered and Dani had walked out, dragging a trussed up Rodian pirate wanted for murdering a Corellian family.

Both of the Rodian's legs were broken.

Phygus Baldrick had never thought that he would see the day that Draq' Bel Iblis, the Dragon of Corellia had nearly broken down when he had seized the young half-Zeltron in his arms.

When he had looked at the dark shadows under her eyes. Or the blaster burn on her shoulder. She had filed her report with its dry prose. A narrative that had conveniently left out how she had gotten the extra scar or what had put those shadows under her eyes.

She was certainly laughing now and back to gently teasing him. Her eyes and face are light.

Baldrick smiles as he feels a warm presence in his rusty Force-sense. He stands as Ti enters the room fully dressed. She smiles warmly as she sees him.

He walks over to her and bows. Ti takes both hands in hers and looks at him, remembering the past.

She looks away from him at Dani. Baldrick releases her hands and says, "Master, that Mando, Shitsa or Shy'sa or whatever has invited us to breakfast."

Ti smirks, "You might want to be more respectful. He is a leader of a large faction of peevish, armored warriors. He is also your 'little brother's' blood uncle."

Baldrick's eyes roll. "Great. Another Croft relation. He must be related to half the goddamned galaxy's collection of thieves, smugglers, gamblers, and all around thugs."

"Well, he is not related to you by blood, so there is the one thief he isn't related to."

Baldrick, clutches his chest in mock pain. "Master, you wound me. You have slain me."

"Over dramatic, much, little man?" Dani says, walking over to him and putting her hands on his shoulders.

He feels a gentle insistent squeeze. He smiles and looks at his comm. "Gotta run. Shy'sa said in a half hour." He squeezes Dani's hand.

As he leaves, Ti sees the raw hunger in Dani's eyes. "A great deal can happen in a half-hour, Daaineran."

Without a word, the officer pushes Ti down on the couch. She straddles the Jedi's middle.

They are late for breakfast.

XXXXX

Ti and Dani walk into the anteroom of Shy'sa's quarters. He is relaxed out of his _beskar'gam_ , laughing with Baldrick over some joke that the little slicer is telling.

They both rise as the two women approach the table. Ti introduces Dani to Fenn. Fenn smiles and kisses her hand, with old world courtliness.

"Constable Faygan, it is good to meet you. The Dragon sings your praise as an officer every chance he gets."

Dani's eyes are wide. Ti smiles with her eyes. Baldrick rolls his.

They sit and tuck into breakfast. Ti realizes that several Togruta delicacies are spread on the table, as well as Corellian and Zeltron.

Apparently there is no such thing as a Mandalorian delicacy.

As she enjoys her food, she thinks of a growing Togruta youngling and how she would've demolished this spread. She smiles.

"So, Phygus," Ti says, "have you learned anything that justifies your little 'vacation' here?"

"Vacation? In this hole? I'd rather have a free trip to a Hutt dancing revue on Nal Hutta."

Dani rolls her eyes. "Fenn, please forgive our little friend here. He spends his days in a little cave under an orphanage surfing for Holonet porn and getting paid a government salary for it," she says.

Phygus narrows his eyes at the Constable. "What about your collection of knives from every world, Red? Those wouldn't look good on an expense report."

"They would on a Mandalorian expense report," Fenn says

Dani looks at the slicer in triumph. "Well there are certain other items, Senior Deputy Constable Faygan, that definitely wouldn't make it on a Mandalorian voucher. Certain items from your homeworld." His smirk and suggestive waggle of his eyebrows earns him a look of death from Dani.

"Those are religious items, little man."

Dani avoids Ti's raised eyebrow marking. Her skin is flushed a deeper red. Fenn watches the byplay with amusement.

They all grow serious. "Phygus, what did you find out on the explosive that Bric found?," Ti says.

Baldrick pulls up his datapad. "I have found a large shipment manifest to Kamino. No one thought anything of it, seeing that an army is based here."

"The odd thing is, I can't find a record of who requested it. It also vanished after arrival."

"How much?" Fenn asks.

"Several metric tons," Phygus says.

"How do you lose several metric tons of a high-grade explosive?" Fenn asks.

"That is the $64 million credit question, _Manda'lor_ ," Phygus says.

His datapad pings. They all look expectantly as he reads.

"Come on Phygus. Get your lips moving a little faster," Dani says, with some exasperation.

He finally looks up. "I have a partial delivery number. Three of them, actually."

He hands the datapad to Ti. She is the most familiar with the layout of the city. "That's in the lower levels. Subterranean. But we can't narrow them down tighter than ten levels and five frames."

"I can rig up a detector or two on datapads," Phygus says.

They all look to Ti. She closes her eyes and seeks clarity. After a moment, she opens them; looks at the patient faces.

"As much as I don't want to draw attention to the search, I think we need to find the explosives quickly. I think that Dani, Phygus, and Captain Pal, my adjutant, can do the searching. Fenn, your trainers and I will keep a normal schedule, but be available to move in to help."

Dani looks at Phygus. "You'll stick with me, little man, to keep you out of trouble."

"Didn't know you cared, Dani."

She smiles. "Always, Phygus." She gently ruffles his hair.

Ti smiles at them. She then grows serious. "I am going to ask Pal if he has a trooper or someone he can trust to help him. I would rather he not be alone down there. He or anyone."

"We have to work fast. There is the threat of the explosives, but there is also the chance that Ga will get to the Council and get us shut down. I don't look for any success in finding anything out if that happens."

They all nod.

Ti has the last word. "Let's shine some light down there."


	15. The True Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A darkness clouds Kamino.

The storm in the room is palpable. Shaak Ti watches the anger flow from the two Fenns, Shy'sa and Rau. The subject of their anger continues to look at all three of them with that placid expression. _Fenn has already called it 'nerf-like,_ ' she thinks with a brief grin.

"Master Jedi, Leader Shy'sa, Mr. Rau, I appreciate your input, however, it is the position of the Prime Minister that Kamino should investigate this accident, rather than outside forces."

"Accident?" Rau shouts. "How can you say it is a kriffing accident? We...." Rau stops at his _alor's_ look.

"If you have evidence of foul play, Mr. Rau, please feel free to share it with us. We will be happy to take your allegations with the seriousness that they deserve."

The loaded nature of that statement is lost on no one.

"We will be contacting the Council and the Senate in this matter, Master."

Ti turns a predator's smile to the Kaminoan. Ga actually recoils at the sharp teeth. "That will actually do you no good, Doctor Ga. The Jedi Council has invested full power and confidence in my decisions in this matter. This may be Kaminoan territory, but it is also a Republic military post. I am the ranking Republic officer, a full General in command of these troops. By law and by contract, they are bound to obey me; I am bound by my Code, as well as law, regulation, and policy to protect their lives."

She pauses, as if remembering why she is in this room. "Twenty-seven troopers lost their lives in that room. I will do whatever is necessary to protect others. I have just sent you a message outlining the particular section in the contract, as well as the section in the executive order enabling the Grand Army of the Republic. I believe that I have said all that can be said."

With that, she rises. The Fenns rise with her. Their eyes are wide. She inclines her head slightly to Ga and leaves.

Very slightly.

As they are moving purposefully towards the training room, Shy'sa whistles softly. "Remind me never to get on your bad side, Master."

Ti smiles slightly. "I am a Jedi. I don't have a bad side."

Rau shakes his head. "You are also a huntress. I have been on Shili and have seen huntresses protecting their clansteads against those overgrown Loth-cats you call an apex predator."

"Point taken, Commander Rau."

"What's next?" Shy'sa says.

"We carry out our plans. Start your training day, gentlemen. I think that I am going to use my new-found made-up power as a Republic base commander to search databases pertaining to my command."

The two Mandalorians stop and stare at her. "You mean..."

"My authority is not as cut and dried. I have recommended it to the Council, but haven't quite heard back from them yet." Ti says with a smirk.

"You really have been hanging around Corellians too much, Master." Shy'sa says with an admiring grin.

_Told you my endearing qualities were rubbing off on you, Master._

XXXXX

Ti turns a corner. Pal and another are standing outside her quarters. Pal salutes, as does the other figure. She focuses on the new arrival.

A shorter figure than Pal, the man stands as tall as he can with the twisted torso and the protruding hump that is the main feature of his back. His features are still as he looks at her through earnest, intelligent eyes. One corner of his mouth raises in a beguiling smile. He dips his body in a bow.

She smiles and puts out her hand. He takes it with only minor difficulty. Pal makes the introduction. "This is Ninety-nine. He is the primary maintenance clone for the training facility. He knows every inch of this city, backwards and forwards. 'Nine, this is General Ti."

"It is a pleasure to meet you Ninety-nine."

"The pleasure is mine, General," he replies in a raspy, but firm voice. "Anything I can do to help my brothers."

"He might be able to narrow down our search, General, based on the size of what is missing. The shipment manifest says that it was kept together."

"That will be of great assistance to us, Ninety-nine. Did Captain Pal tell you that is may be dangerous? We are looking for explosives and the perpetrator of this crime may still have access."

"General, I know that I am a reject; a bad-batcher, but the risk is worth it if I can save even one of my brothers, I will bear the danger."

Ti smiles and bows her head. "Your heart tells me that you are not a reject, Ninety-nine. We appreciate any help you can provide; but Captain Pal will take extra care with your safety, as I am sure that you will watch his back. You are just as valuable as he is, to me."

The shining admiration in Ninety-nines' eyes are almost too much for Ti to bear. Pal and 'Nine turn and head for the depths of the city.

XXXXX

"Come on short-stuff. Quit primping and let's go," Dani Faygan says.

"Not everybody can be as naturally beautiful as you, Toots. Perfection takes work for some of us."

Dani snorts. "When you achieve it, Tiny, please alert everyone."

"You know I will, babe."

The easy snark continues as they move to their objectives. Phygus is smiling at how light and happy Dani appears to be. A far cry from the quiet, pensive, pained woman of even a few days ago.

He looks up at her. They had decided that she would wear her CorSec uniform, to deflect at least initial questions by looking as official as possible.

_Anyone else and that outfit would look like a bag. With her, she looks as elegant and beautiful as if she was in a five-thousand credit designer gown._

"Would you quit looking at my ass, Phygus? We have work to do."

"Oh, sorry, I thought I was looking at your boobs." He closes his eyes. _Way to go, creep._

She laughs. "That is so much better, Phygus."

He gathers his courage. "Dani, what happened in Hutt space? When you got back, you were in so much pain."

Her eyes flash. "I don't want to talk about it."

He looks down. _Sorry, sweetie. Not taking that as your final answer._

"Come on, Dani. I know how tough you are." He pauses. "I know that I am a perverted little troll. You were in so much pain in your last few weeks there and when you came back. I can't stand to see my friends in so much pain. I can't stand it when I see Croft like that - hell, I couldn't even stand to see the Dragon's pain when you didn't check in."

He smirks. "It's not just the friends that I would like to see naked, either."

The Zeltron officer matches his smirk. "I am sure that I could arrange that where Croft and the Dragon are concerned."

Dani stops and turns. They are in a deserted corridor. She slides down the wall and puts her arms around her knees. Baldrick sits close to her, but respects her space.

"You didn't hear from me because I was captured by the Rodian's gang."

Baldrick looks down for a second, but he raises his head up and looks directly into her black gaze. The eyes are dark. This is very emotional for her.

"Let's just say that I got out. I caught the bad guy. In the process, I may have left a piece of myself in that room, with a dozen dead pirates, as well as the slaves that they murdered in front of me."

Baldrick looks at her in horror. "That is all that I am going to say, Phygus. Please don't ask me to say any more."

"Have you told Ti?"

"No. You better not either," she says with a pointed, dark look.

He persists. "Master Ti, in spite of being in possession of an intense 'scary Jedi Master' look, is a good listener. She would want to help you. I see how you two look at each other..."

"Phygus. I said, no. She has enough on her mind with this war, and Taliesin and..." She pauses and gathers herself. "...everything," she finishes. "I will not burden her with this."

Her comm beeps. She goes to answer it. Before she does, Baldrick seizes her knees and engulfs her in a hug. "This ain't over, Dani Faygan. Not by a long damned shot."

She nods. "Maybe after we save the universe, Phygus. I'll tell you." She wipes the tears from her eyes.

"I'll hold you to that, sweetie."

XXXXX

Dani and Phygus approach a large storage bay. Pal and the maintenance clone known as Ninety-nine stand in front of the hatch.

"Hey, little man," Pal says. He holds up the datapad/detector that Baldrick had given him earlier, when the four had met and split up the workload.

A workload that had shrunk considerably with Ninety-nine's knowledge.

"Getting a huge reading in here. Neither of us can get the hatch open. We thought that the famous slicer would be able to get in. If he can reach the panel."

"Fuck you, Pal," is the famous slicer's eloquent response.

"Come on guys. Can it for now," Dani says. She kneels down and lifts Phygus up to the panel.

She strains. "Holy shit. What the hell do you eat? How can someone so small be so damned heavy?"

She sees the comment coming a mile away as he smirks. "Never mind."

Phygus pulls a small cloth kit out of his backpack. He hands the datapad to Ninety-nine. As he opens the kit, a blaster bolt nearly takes his head off.

Dani unceremoniously drops him in a heap and draws her blaster in one quick motion. She opens fire on the source.

Pal has swung his DC-15S around and joined her. As their attacker dives for cover, they get a glimpse of Mando armor.

Not the clean, orderly armor of Fenn's cadre, but mismatched armor, from a variety of sources.

Dani and Pal glance at each other. He touches a pad on the side of his bucket.

They charge.

Ninety-nine and Phygus look at one another. Without a word, Ninety-nine struggles to lift Baldrick to the door panel. Phygus pulls out his tools and sets to work.

"Don't worry, 'Nine. I'll work fast."

"It is no bother, sir," the clone says, straining.

Phygus smiles at himself at the clone's respectful response. _I could get used to being called 'sir.' Maybe I'll institute it as a rule._

XXXXX

Dani and Pal gain on their attacker. As they round a corner, they run into another Mando in similar mismatched armor. The second attacker sends a point-blank blaster bolt into Pal's bucket.

Dani turns in horror as the officer falls. As she reaches him, he waves her off, gasping, "I'm okay - go get'em Dani!"

She takes him at his word and pounds headlong down the corridor. She is rewarded by catching site of the second attacker. She sends a bolt after him. The bolt strikes him in his back.

The fire doesn't penetrate the _beskar'gam_ , but he stumbles and drops his carbine, allowing Dani to reach him. He swings around, a blade snapping into place from his gauntlet.

The unknown Mando swings the blade, catching the hand holding the blaster. Dani curses and drops the weapon, a long laceration across her knuckles. If she had been an inch closer, her fingers on her left hand would've joined the weapon on the floor. She shoves the hand with the blade up and twists. There is a stifled scream as the wrist turns a way it was never intended.

Dani reels from a right cross to the jaw, but maintains her feet. The Mando flicks his opposite hand from the injured one. A burst of flame shoots out catching Dani's arm.

Dani manages to throw her uniform tunic off, leaving her in a dress shirt. She pulls a knife from the sleeve of the tunic before she discards the burning garment. She tries to hold it in her strong hand, but the pain from her cut fingers moves it to the right, her weak hand.

She moves the knife in a swirling motion, attempting to keep the armored figure at bay. The Mando doesn't use the flamethrower again, but does extend another blade from that gauntlet.

Dani notes where the armor does not cover the torso. She smiles and her eyes narrow. The smile mirrors that, as best she can, of a certain huntress of her close acquaintance.

She moves towards her prey.

XXXXX

"Almost got it, 'Nine," Phygus says,

An audible click is heard. "Yes," Baldrick crows in triumph. The door opens.

Both Baldrick and Ninety-nine are struck full in the face by a deluge of sea water. They manage to cling to one another as they are swept down the corridor by the rushing onslaught.

Both men are barely able to cling to each other as they are battered and slapped against the bulkheads.

Phygus can tell that his companion is calm, but his strength is failing. The slicer looks for handhold to seize, but whatever he spots is yanked out of his hand just as he touches it by the torrent.

A sudden jolt to his back and the point is moot. He turns around and realizes that an emergency door has slammed down in front of him. His heart sinks.

He looks at his companion. "Is there any other way out, 'Nine?" he asks.

"No. The emergency flooding protocol has been triggered. Everything is sealed until the hull breach has been fixed."

Baldrick thinks for a moment. "I didn't hear an explosion or anything. How did the breach occur."

The clone is gasping. "It happened when you opened the door. I think somebody might have triggered it to cause the submarine loading hatch to open."

"Can anyone close it?"

"From the control room. They should've already closed it."

"Well, we can't count on anyone else, apparently. Anything else."

Ninety-nine is struggling to think. "Across the bay, near the submarine door. There is a manual/hydraulic release to close the door." He pauses. "The bay is already filled by now. They must've opened the doors to dispose of all of those explosives. It will be a long swim underwater. I can't swim that well."

Baldrick closes his eyes. Shit. "Well, I ain't the Kamino champion, but I am the best chance since none of the real heroes are here."

Phygus fights to keep the trembling out of his voice. It ain't from the cold either.

"Sir?"

"I need you to hold on, for me, 'Nine. I am going to do something stupid."

"I would say very brave, sir," the clone says in his raspy voice.

"Same thing."

The clone smiles his crooked smile. "I don't think so, sir. Good luck."

Phygus nods pushes off and dives into the current. Within a few meters, he is fighting.

Fighting for what seems like hours. He reaches the door of the cargo bay. He rests for a moment. He shakes his head, takes a deep breath and dives underwater.

The bay is surreal as he pulls himself through the water. Emergency lights play over the scene, giving the area a hellish look. At least it is easier to swim.

He keeps swimming. His lungs begin to throb with pain as he pushes on.

_I really need to stop hanging around these brave idiots that I do. Their bad habits are starting to rub off on me._

XXXXX

Dani stares at the Mando. She has managed to break off the other blade against the wall, but not before her white dress shirt is dotted with her blood from cuts where the Mando had connected.

The Mando had managed to connect with her face a few more times, as well. _The hell with this. Time to stop dancing with him._

She dives at his midsection. The Mando clasps hands and desperately begins to pound on her back and ribs. Dani shakes her head and brings the knife in her right hand up and plunges it into the midsection of her opponent, between the joints of the armor.

The Mando slumps. Dani falls to her hands and knees, gasping for breath. The Mando is breathing. She crawls over to where he lays and pulls the bucket off. A non-descript face stares back at her.

She sees the mouth working. Just as she realizes what the man is doing, a white foam pours from his mouth.

"No!" she screams, slumping. The Mando's eyes fix on the overhead. She hears footsteps. Pal slides in next to her.

She pulls her shirt off and starts trying to bandage some of her cuts. Pal looks at her, a large bruise across his face. He pulls out his pad and takes a holo of the dead man.

They become aware of a rushing sound from where they came from. They look at one another and turn towards the sound.

XXXXX

Baldrick is feeling along the wall; he comes upon the valve described by Ninety-nine. He strains against it; trying to turn it. His lungs are bursting as he strains.

_Come on dumbass. Ninety-nine is counting on you._

For the first time in his life, Phygus Baldrick wishes that he had been born with brawn instead of brain.

He stills. A half-remembered lesson comes to his head. He focuses on the mechanism. He can feel it move. He feels the connection with it. The pounding in his head increases as the wheel turns faster. He feels it stop at the end of its turn.

A loud roaring - louder than his blood pounding as it seeks oxygen, filters into his consciousness. He looks down and sees the hatch closing.

He uses the last of his strength to turn. His vision, which had darkening along the edges, closes on the center.

His last thought before the darkness swallows him is of his little brother.

XXXXX

Phygus Baldrick is kissing Dani Faygan. He becomes aware of her soft lips on his. _I must be dead._

Then the pain hits him, as he realizes that he is on his side. Strong hands are pushing on his side. He feels himself propelling salt water from his mouth. Choking and coughing. He feels the sensation of water being pulled from his lungs, as he feels cool, strong hands resting on his torso. Hands that are drawing on an ancient power, as well as the salt water.

Dani's lips touch his and force air into his lungs. _This is my one chance. Of course, I may still die._

He moves his tongue into Dani's mouth. She recoils and his jaw resonates with her slap.

"You little asshole," she yells. "I take pity on you and try to save your benighted, perverted little life and this is the thanks I get?"

He turns his head and sees Shaak Ti, Jedi Master and respected huntress of Shili, laughing as he has never seen her.

After a moment, Dani joins her, wincing occasionally from her injured face. Ninety-nine is lying on a stretcher, looking at the scene with curiosity. Baldrick reaches over and touches his shoulder. They look at one another in understanding.

"So how did I get out?" he asks. "The alarms and door controls were disabled in the control room. Ti felt you struggling. She got everybody down here. When you got the door open, she was able to yank you out with the Force," Dani says.

"What about the explosives?"

Pal answer as he walks over. "Gone. Sunk to the depths and crushed. I guess that was the fail safe for whoever was doing this."

"Also, the Mando that the good Deputy fought has disappeared. I showed the holo to the Fenns. He wasn't one of theirs. Bric said he had joined in the initial levy, gave his name as Tran Kluge."

He shakes his head. "False name, of course. Republic Intel is trying to track him down. Be easier if we had fingerprints or DNA."

Dani hands him her knife without a word. Pal smiles and takes it. "Got DNA, now, apparently," he says.

"What about the first one?" Dani asks."No one knows, Ti replies. "A ship was cleared to leave soon after. No alarm was given, so it wasn't held."

"Master Ti, if you don't mind, we're going to take Dani and Ninety-nine to the infirmary," Pal says. He motions to other clones milling about.

"Thank you, Captain. I'll get Phygus there. I am hoping I won't have to resuscitate him on the way."

Baldrick starts to say something, but thinks better of it as the tall Master hefts him in her arms. As they move towards the elevator, Ti looks down and sees a troubled look on his face. "What is it, Phygus?"

"Master, I have to tell you something. It might risk a friendship, but it is something that I think that you need to know."

"It's about Dani."

XXXXX

Shaak Ti caresses the hair of a young woman, lying with her head against the Togruta's chest. Dani''s face and torso under her robe are marked with bacta pads. The Zeltron sleeps, her tears drying on her face. Ti thinks back to the conversation. About the guilt and pain that the officer carried back from Hutt space.

The pain of not being able to save dozens of slaves who were murdered in front of her. Of killing the slavers who had murdered the slaves.

_Shaak, I killed a dozen men. I was fighting so hard, I didn't know if any tried to surrender. I hit them hard before they could react. Afterwards, I was pointing my blaster at the head of the Rodian. I had most of the pressure on the trigger needed. I stopped. I couldn't._

Shaak had no platitudes or lessons to give to heal that pain. She had merely taken Dani in her arms and kissed her, holding her while she sobbed herself to sleep. She would try to be the anchor that Dani needed.

The door chime sounded. "It's open," she says. She doesn't even try to move Dani off of her.

Fenn Shy'sa walks in. His eyebrow raises at the sight of the powerful Jedi holding a young woman in her arms, but he says nothing.

"Looks like you're stuck with us, General," he says.

"How's that, _Manda'lor_?"

"Communication from the Council. All trainers will report to you, not the Kaminoans, including Bric and his crew."

"That's good news."

"If you don't mind, I am going to start culling some dead weight," Fenn says.

"Do what you think you must. I trust your judgement, Fenn. Try to work with Bric as much as possible."

He nods. "I am very concerned, General, that someone was able to accomplish all of this under the Kaminoans' noses. Or whatever the hell they have."

"Me, too. Fenn. I am hoping that a Jedi stationed here, might deter whoever."

Fenn smiles. "I am glad that you are that Jedi, Shaak. I saw how you waded in to save those clones after the explosion. I saw the care on your face. I think that you have the right mix of compassion and purpose to give the boys a good foundation for survival."

"I hope that you're right, Fenn."

He turns to go. "By the way, you have a new liaison."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Tora Ga has been transferred to oversee a new medical station for the clones. You'll deal directly with the Prime Minister. Through his administrative assistant, Taun We."

Ti smiles. "I hope that Dr. Ga's talents will be appreciated there," she says dryly.

Fenn smiles. "Do you need anything, Master? Does Dani?"

"No, we're fine. Good night and thank you, _Manda'lor_. He nods and walks out, leaving Ti to her thoughts and the young woman in her arms.

Ti opens herself to the Force. Since her mission on Corellia with Taliesin, whenever she had reached out to the familiar energy of the Force, everything had been tinged with darkness.

She finds more darkness now. She can't identify it, but the wide vision of the Force seems to be clouded and dark.

As if she was looking through a filter at a large picture window. She can focus on a narrow band of the window, but not the whole thing.

Dani shifts against her and murmurs. She kisses the young woman's ear.

There is a pit in her stomach. As if the true darkness has not revealed itself.

**Entracte'  
Unknown Hyperspace Lane**

The figure in tattered, mismatched armor sits at the controls of a small cargo ship. He had abandoned the purloined shuttle and claimed this vessel. He stares out at the bright light of hyperspace. A light blinking on the console brings him out of his thoughts.

He pushes a toggle. A holocomm of an elderly, bearded visage stares at him expressionless. "Count Dooku," he says. "I was not able to detonate all of the explosives. The Jedi and her helpers got close to the cache and I had to dump it."

"You did rightly, CC-0001. My sources say that you have sown enough chaos to keep the Republic on its heels. The only unfortunate part is that the Jedi are in complete control. This may make it more difficult to control events on Kamino. But not impossible. My master...."

He stops. "No matter. Return to Raxus."

"As you say, my lord."

The figure pulls his helmet off. His reflection plays in the port. The face that stares back at him is not a unique one. It is the face of a possibly-Mandalorian bounty hunter. The face of millions of brothers, born and bred for war.

His amber eyes are expressionless as he stares at his reflection.

**Present Day**

_The view shifts as the two watchers begin to flow towards one another. One, a beautiful young Togruta, holds the slightly older human male, as his memories fade away. She holds him as they both weep._

_As they both remember._

 

 


	16. Epilogue: The Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living. 
> 
> Marcus Tullius Cicero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you to all who have read, and commented.
> 
> I hope that you have enjoyed the ride through memories of the Clone Wars. More to come.
> 
> Thank you again.

**Jakku**  

**Present day**

Ahsoka struggles back towards the coolness of the desert dawn. She comes fully awake. She can feel the tears drying on her cheeks. She looks at Covenant. Tears have marked their tracks on his face as well. She smiles as she looks at his face. She sits up, looking down on the Corellian.

His face is peaceful and still. As relaxed as she has ever seen it. His breathing easy and even.

As if her scrutiny is palpable, his eyes slowly open. A smile plays over his face.

"You know, I have searched my memory of all of those events. For the life of me, I don't remember a beautiful, naked Togruta at the edge of my vision of everything that happened back then."

She laughs gently and reaches down to kiss him. Before she can connect, he demurs. "Babe, as much as I would like to, I have been all over the galaxy in the last several hours. My mouth tastes like a bantha's ass."

She Smirks. "I really don't want to know how you know what a bantha's ass tastes like, but I think that that I will chance it. Right now, I want to kiss you more than I want to draw another breath," she says.

He can feel the air go out of his lungs at her matter-of-fact statement. He reaches up and their lips touch. And stay touching.

When they finally break apart, he can see that the Smirk has grown as she looks down at him. "What?" he asks.

"Elle Jaquindo? Really, Croft?" unconsciously calling him by his former name.

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Don't tell me that you are going to hold every dalliance I ever had while I was a Padawan against me. That's not fair."

Her Smirk gentles into a soft smile. "No. Just the ones that were stuck-up twits who were convinced of how much better they were than lowly younglings. Especially lowly Togruta younglings who routinely beat her bullying ass in every spar." He nods, not arguing.

She sees his expression as she looks down. She knows he is remembering a scene in his mind. The scene of a hulking, hard Null tenderly touching the cheek of a bitter, hard, broken Padawan in the passageway of a Republic frigate. Of the Padawan closing her eyes and folding herself in the clone's arms, her face at rest.

The smile drifts away as Ahsoka remembers. "I know, Bryne. "On that night, I felt...."

They both know what night she was talking about. They both remember the inferno in the Force. "I know how much she meant to you, as well as Alesha and Ven. I..." She looks down. He places his fingers gently under her chin; raises her eyes to his.

"I know how she treated you, Runt. I was so proud of how you stood up to her. That was an ugly part of her." She can see his eyes grow distant. "I think that the arena on Geonosis scoured her of a lot of her demons - whatever they were. I wish that you could've met her after that."

"I know. I knew even without looking into your head that you stood up to her for us. You and Lan and Tol. It is a testament to all three of you that you could stand up to her, but still give her the love that she needed."

The Smirk returns. "Doesn't mean that I am not going to tease the shit out of you, now that I have seen every one of your conquests during the early part of the Clone Wars. I get to. Because I can."

His face reddens. But he laughs for a moment. His laughter dies as he remembers.

"Hey," she says, placing her hand on his cheek. "I know. They hurt. That's what memories sometimes do. But I am damned glad that I got to see and share your memories."

He grows serious. "About that. I listened to the same lectures from Plo that you did. That was a helluva risk you took. Thought we were going to discuss when we took risks for one another." There is no anger in his voice.

"Didn't exactly have the time or the means to discuss it, sport," she says. Covenant nods.

"You could've been lost in my memories forever. Having lived them, while some were the best I have ever had, I wouldn't wish that on anyone," he says gently.

"I know, _Baa'je'ie_. But it's a good bet that I would be lost with you. I can think of worse things that could happen."

She looks pensive. "One thing, I don't understand, Jame," using his birth name. A name that maybe three people know. "I kept getting a lot of snippets of Master Ti's memories. Very vivid. How is that?"

Covenant is thoughtful. "I don't know. The only thing that I can figure, is the fact that we never broke the training bond."

Ahsoka's eyes widen, as she thinks of that. "We only saw each other in-person again once after I was knighted," his eyes glisten, as he remembers, " until the moment before she died."

She sees a brief sensation of that one meeting. Of angry words between them; of regrets unspoken. She senses that she was the subject of those words; of her expulsion from the Order.

She doesn't ask.

"I never knew that she was ill. I saw little instances of pain, but she shielded it from me." He shakes his head. "I never got these...connections or whatever until years later. Only in my dreams. The connection wasn't real time."

"What about Dani?" Ahsoka asks. "I never knew until a couple of months or so ago."

He chuckles gently; sobers. "Dani'll probably tell you to this day her standard answer when asked about everybody that she is with. She was just providing 'comfort' and 'passion.' I think that it had grown to something more with Ti, until she made the commitment just before the war ended."

"They were very much in love. Whatever the hell that means."

Ahsoka considers this. "I would have never guessed that about Ti. She always seemed so balanced, as well as an adherent to the Code."

"She had her moments of rebellion. Small ones. Everybody saw how serene and calm she was. I knew the passion that she felt for being a Jedi. For being a teacher." He closes his eyes. "For her students."

He pauses, as if remembering. "I think that beginning with our last mission together on Corellia, she felt that the Order was drifting away. I think her feelings for Dani and how she was expressing them were her way of abandoning the non-attachment strictures of the Code. That the Jedi had so many other issues that were so much more pressing than whether or not a Jedi was attached to someone."

"I think that the next time I see Dani, I need to hold her to me for a good long time," Ahsoka says.

"I think that she would always appreciate that. I am glad that you both were able to bond on Zeltros." He smirks. "When you were losing that bet." His shared laughter morphs into a sad smile. "She is so busy being compassionate and caring for everybody else; she doesn't think about herself. You saw it. I think Ti will always be a pretty big goddamned hole in that huge heart."

Covenant looks at her. His emerald gaze is direct. She thinks incongruously as she looks into his eyes that she had never noticed the gold flecks in his eyes. _They wouldn't be seen if you weren't looking for them._

He takes a deep breath. "I know that I owe you a lot more stories. I promise that I will tell them to you. I just want us both to be conscious when I tell them and not be at risk for going insane."

"I know that you will, Jame," she says, her voice thick with emotion. "I know that I owe you a number of stories as well. I will tell them."

"I know, Ahsoka. We may piss each other off and do stupid stuff in the name of protecting one another, but we both have always kept our word to each other." His smile grows into that easy Corellian grin that his Master had always rolled her eyes at.

Ahsoka's smile fades. She is pensive. He reaches up and kisses her on the end of her nose. She laughs and the pensiveness is gone. She reaches down for a deeper kiss. Not on his nose.

They break apart. He is lost in her eyes as she looks down on him. "Ahsoka, as much as I would like to be inside of you for a good long time," he pauses as he sees the hungry look in her eyes, "and by that I don't mean inside of your head; I think that we need sleep. Good, deep sleep."

She looks down for a moment. "I think that you are right, Bait. I think it is still cool enough for me to sleep on top of you.

"Always."

"We have a few hours before it gets too hot to sleep. Are you finished up with Lor San Tekka and his band of miscreants?" Bryne asks, hopefully.

"Yeah. Interesting group. I think I got what I needed, plus made good contacts. San Tekka is an impressive leader for one so young."

He nods. "Do you have any pressing engagements on your calendar for the next week?"

She can feel his hope as a tangible thing.

"Nope. I don't, Bait. You have something in mind?"

"Yep. I do. We are only about a day's hyperspace jump from Takodana."

She nods in agreement. The Smirk flows onto her face as if a reflex. "Of course, if we fly like you do, that could take the whole week, Master Sinube," she says, deadpan, but with a hint of fond memory.

"Well, at least we would get there."

"Hey, I haven't crashed anything in years!" she says, with mock indignation.

"Yeah, right. I'll ask Arseven."

"Uh, I don't think that he likes you enough yet to tell you."

"Great. I guess all those screams and moans you've been giving off hasn't helped."

"Nope. Not a drop."

"Didn't know that you had a rust bucket for a chaperone." He raises his voice slightly. "No offense, Arseven."

The resulting raspberry is loud in the desert morning.

She sees the glint in Covenant's eyes. "Of course, I have noticed in the last couple of months, that you haven't minded slow and steady very much."

"And you haven't minded hard and fast, either, there, sport."

They share a laugh, as they simultaneously touch each other's faces.

Bryne breaks the moment.

"Getting back to what I was saying, I propose that we pack up and head there. I think that my old room might be available. We can rest up," he looks slyly at her, "or not. I can cook you proper food for a week long name-day celebration."

He continues, as he sees a tiny bit of excited Padawan in her eyes. "I would love to swim in that lake with you. All day if you like. We can rest on that spot on the shore that we first really held each other after you told me to come find you." He smirks. "Right before you threw Phygus in the lake."

She matches his expression. "If he had come by a few minutes later, he might have gotten a more interesting video. I came very close to...." She breaks off and pulls the conversation back to their plans. "Swimming in that lake with you sounds like heaven. What else?"

"Nights on Takodana can get pretty cold. If I remember correctly, there is a nice fireplace with a thick fur rug of some kind in front of it that the naked Togruta of my dreams can keep warm on if she needs to."

She Smirks. "I don't know. How many of your conquests have been on that rug? I know you Corellian bartender/cook/bouncer types--y'all are all so smooth."

She sees the gleam grow in his eyes.

"Only Dav Kolan."

"Ewww! I hope you had that thing fumigated. As well as yourself. Or at least exorcised." She is laughing as she says it. He joins her.

She lets her laughter die away. She reaches over and kisses him again. Her eyes wide open throughout, as usual. She rests her forehead on his. She brings her body to rest fully on his.

She can feel the intake of air in his chest. She feels a movement on her middle, a twitch. Her own center grows warm.

They both fight to slow their breathing and their heart rate. They call on centuries of arcane knowledge and years of training.

Sometimes the Force works in mysterious ways.

"Hey, Bait."

"Yeah, Runt?"

"I don't think we're going to get a lot of sleep when we get there."

"I think that you're right, Runt."

She lays her head on his chest. Her eyes close and her breathing becomes regular. He can feel the lekku on his chest softly moving. He thinks that he has learned a little bit of that language.

As his eyes close and his breathing matches hers, he thinks about the meaning, in this momentary respite.

_Standing in the eye of the storm._

 

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Challenges](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8516782) by [B_Radley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/B_Radley/pseuds/B_Radley)




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